Stars Collide
by theRottenLord
Summary: Yet another story of Harry Potter going dark and not being Potter at all. Although I would try to make it interesting. Dark!Harry abuse/violence/explicit language, HP/LV, Slash, M rating warning, OOC
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, violence, murder._

* * *

It was very late at night on the 31st of october 1981 when an odd looking pair appeared seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of the ordinary Private Drive. Had anybody looked out of the window, they would be rather scandalized by the unwelcome intruders. A tall old looking man with a long white beard, wearing bright violet robes, was followed by a woman in green in a tall pointed witch hat. What was so scandalizing about them wasn't their obviously halloween-ish outfits, but the fact that they materialized out of the thin air right in the middle of the street, deep in the night, and were arguing rather loudly while getting closer to the house number 4. The woman was hissing angrily, waving her arms at her companion and glaring at the houses around her. But the old man was simply shaking his head and uttering negative answers in return. Finally they stopped at the porch of the house number 4 and the old man crouched at the steps and put down a basket. Straightening, he looked back at his companion, who shot him an angry and desperate glare, smiled at her apologetically and reached into his inner pocket to pull out an envelope. With a long sigh he placed the envelope into the basket and, looking back at his companion once more, disappeared into the night. The woman in a witch hat sniffed and, covering her mouth with her hand, also vanished out of the sight. Half an hour later the residents of the house number 4 of the Privet Drive were woken up by the wails of a little child, who lay in the damned basket on their porch.

**xxx**

Harry Potter. He didn't know his name until he turned 6 years old. All he ever was called before was "boy" or "freak". He never complained though, for it was normal in his opinion, he was quite certain those were his names. In fact, he knew very little about himself, for his aunt and uncle rarely spoke to him at all, and when they did, they usually shouted at him and smacked him, and pushed him around like a dirty dog. Yet he never complained, although sometimes he would ask himself why was he so different from his cousin Dudley, what was he doing wrong that they were treated so differently, but there would be no answer for him to find. He once asked aunt Petunia why, and for that she slapped him on the face and told him that he was to spend two days in his room - the cupboard under the stairs - for she couldn't stand the sight of him and his 'Lily's bloody face'.

Harry rarely could use a mirror so he had a vague recollection of his appearance. All he knew was that he was quite tall for his age, very thin, had a round rather girlish face with soft feminine features, surrounded by a mass of dark red hair, slightly curved and unruly. But the most striking and memorable feature of his face were his big bright green eyes that stood out effectively in the contrast to his pale skin and copper hair. And the scar, yes, he had a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, which he thought to be very ugly and always tried to cover it under his long fringe. From all the insults and snarls his aunt threw at him he came to a conclusion that he looked a lot like his mother Lily, who was a 'ginger-head menace' and 'a poor excuse of a woman'. Harry also knew that Lily and James (who turned out to be his father) were both dead and that he, Harry, was a curse and a burden and a filthy spot on the face of a perfect and lovely and very normal Dursley family. It was a mystery why they hated his parents so much, why they hated him so much, but Harry knew better not to ask. As far as he knew they were his family and he should be grateful for everything they've done for him. And he was. Until he turned 6 and his "freakishness" began to manifest itself.

There were small incidents in the beginning, quite insignificant in Harry's opinion. Once aunt Petunia decided to shave his head to get rid of 'that blasted red hair' and, to everybody's dismay and Harry's relief, his hair grew out their full length the next day. The other time he appeared on the roof of the house while running away from Dudley and his friends and their beatings. There were a few similar incidents that drove his uncle crazy but always left him simply beaten or deprived of food, nothing really serious. But everything changed when aunt Marge came to visit on Christmas holidays. Harry was a quiet and intelligent child, who learnt to talk quite early and learnt to be polite early as well, he wasn't aggressive or rude, but aunt Marge was the only person who could antagonize him to the verge of his patience - she and her dogs made Harry very angry every time he had to face them.

The very first thing she did upon arriving that Christmas day - she set her dog Riper on Harry and watched in amusement as the boy ran around the yard, crying and seeking shelter from the vicious animal. Dursleys soon ushered Marge inside for dinner and Harry was left alone face to face with the blasted dog. Riper had already bitten him once the previous year, and the bite was so severe that Dursleys had to take him to the hospital - he still had a few ugly scars on his left forearm. And so Harry was trapped with the damned dog once again and all he could feel was anger and fear. He was afraid that Riper will attack him again and will injure him even worse, and he was angry, so angry that the dog frightened him more than his uncle's belt, that he couldn't move. He simply stood in the middle of the yard, staring at the dog that was staring back and growling menacingly. Harry dearly wished to dart back into the house but he knew he wouldn't stand a chance to outrun Riper, and so he froze and barely even breathed, frantically thinking of a way to escape the beast.

And yet his anger got the best of him - why did he have to stand and wait to be bitten? Why did he have to stand out in the cold because of the bloody dog? His hands began to shake ever so slightly and yet that was enough for Riper to start moving. Harry barely noticed when the dog jumped at him - all he knew was that he wouldn't get bitten again, oh no, not anymore, not by Marge's mutt. It all happened in a mere second, Harry hardly blinked - Riper hadn't even reached him, he fell dead at the boy's feet, with a little whimper coming out of his throat. Harry stood still for a few more seconds and then the realization hit him. He killed Riper. He killed the dog.

His eyes took in the corpse and little snowflakes descending and melting on a still warm fur - Harry warily kicked the dog with his shoe but it never moved. He let out the breath he was holding and suddenly relaxed. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that he should feel bad, very bad indeed for killing the animal, that it was impossible to kill without even touching, that killing itself was a horrible thing, but he just shook his head and, stepping over the corpse, went to the back door of the house. He didn't feel guilty, in fact, he felt free, he felt almost euphoric, he felt as if all the anger that filled him was finally gone. Smiling to himself he entered the kitchen, where his family was enjoying their desserts.

"Freak, where is my baby Riper?" Marge growled between mouthfuls of cake.

"He's dead," the boy shrugged slightly and started washing the dishes without even looking at her.

"What did you say?" she bit out, her face turning an ugly shade of purple, "What did you say, FREAK?"

"He's dead," Harry repeated absentmindedly. Next thing he heard was a sharp noise of a chair being dragged on the floor, and a meaty sweaty hand grabbed his hair from behind.

"What did you do to my doggy?! What did you, son of bitch, do to my Riper?!" Marge shrieked and yanked his hair so hard,he stumbled and barely stood on his feet. His face was turned to the table now and he could see Vernon's red face full of rage, Petunia's hands nervously hugging Dudley, who kept shoving food into his mouth and waited for the show to continue.

"I didn't do anything!" Harry lied, and yet he didn't know what exactly did he do, so he decided to go with flow, "I didn't do anything, I swear, he just dropped dead!"

"Don't you lie to me, you, little bastard," Marge bellowed shoving him onto the floor and towering over him, "I know you killed him! You freak, you worthless filth, just like your parents, USELESS WORTHLESS SHIT!"

"You had it coming, boy, you had it coming!" his uncle shouted and stood up as well, shaking his fist in the air, "I will teach you behave, I will beat that freakishness out of you, I will beat it out of your damn blood of your worthless parents!"

Harry saw red. All the anger and fear he felt back in yard came back twice worse than before. He got up from the floor and took a step back from Marge. She started screeching, spitting all the while into his face, "You bloody criminal, you little murderer, I will kill you myself for what you've done to my Riper!"

Harry's hands began to shake again, his whole body began to jerk violently. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. The very same moment the lights went off and a microwave blew up, spraying red sparks on Marge's distorted face. The lights flicked a few times and turned on again. Harry opened his eyes and looked down on his feet, trying to calm himself. A wave of fear washed over him making him sweat hard - he never felt so scared in his life. Something like an electroshock went through his body and he felt as if the whole world kept spinning around him, he couldn't fathom what exactly he felt at that moment, but the amount of pleasure it brought him scared him to death. He realized that it was the very same thing he felt when Riper fell down to his feet. It overwhelmed him and he dared not to look up to see the faces of his relatives.

"To. Cupboard. Now!" Vernon snarled and Harry immediately obeyed, never looking up. He darted past the table with a record speed and jumped inside the cupboard, closing the door behind him with a loud crack. He pulled himself into the corner and closed his eyes shut, wishing it all had just been a dream.

It wasn't.

Harry could distantly hear Marge's cries over her dog's now cold body, he could hear how Petunia urged her into the car along with Dudley and took them to the vet. He could clearly hear Vernon's heavy steps towards the cupboard. Harry bit his lower lip, his back was cold wet and his heart was ready to jump out of his throat. He dreaded the sound of Vernon's slippers, and why did it have to be so slow and so menacing...

"I will show you what's it like to ruin our Christmas, I will show you what's it like to kill Marge's dog," Vernon slowly opened the door, his words barely heard between his loud breaths of rage, "Come here, you, little shit!" He grabbed Harry's hand and violently pulled him out of the cupboard and threw him onto the floor. Harry could only squeeze his eyes shut and put his hands over his face. The dread slowly ate his insides, while his head became very clear. Pain. He knew what was coming. A lot of pain. Maybe even death?

He didn't die. He spent a week locked up in the cupboard, broken and beaten, covered in his own blood and piss. Petunia had to take him up to the bathroom to get rid of the horrible stench. Yet she didn't question his state of health, which was surprisingly good. All his broken bones mended themselves and all his cuts healed, leaving only scars and a little pain behind. He felt dazed and thirsty, his head was spinning and black dots danced in front of his eyes, but he could move and even walk. After the bath Petunia shoved him back into the cupboard along with some clothes (Dudley's hand-me-downs of course) and a few pieces of bread. She never said a word.

Nobody talked to him for one more week and he spent it lying on his cot in darkness, wishing for somebody to come and take him away from here. And yet he knew that nobody would come and that he was stuck with the Dursleys for the rest of his life. But all the while his thoughts came back to the fact that he didn't die and even healed completely. How was that possible? He felt scared and excited at the same time. His freakishness healed him, of that he had no doubt. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a bad thing after all?

**xxx**

Harry was working in the garden as usual. It was late april, it was already warm outside and he enjoyed being out in the sun, breathing fresh air. All this time since the christmas incident he kept thinking about that overwhelming feeling that he experienced, that freedom that he couldn't find in anything else and couldn't replay in his fantasies - he longed to feel it again, he needed it. He was so engrossed in his reminiscence, he didn't hear Dudley coming from behind and kicking him on his side. Harry howled in pain and fell and Dudley kicked him again on his stomach. It was painful but he could bear it, he just had to try not to cry. But then he saw two more shadows above him and he knew then, that Dudley called his friends for some 'entertainment'.

Three blows were brought upon him almost simultaneously, and he couldn't hold his cry anymore. He tried to cover his face and tried to coil his body as much as possible, but it didn't help. They were kicking him and laughing, laughing at his pain and misery. Harry couldn't bear it anymore, he couldn't tolerate that amount of pain and that damn laughter any longer. Harry snapped. The three boys were thrown away with a sudden wave of power, as if somebody's strong hands pushed them away from the battered body on the grass. Harry slowly lifted his upper body on his shaking hands, his nose bleeding hard, he glared at Dudley and felt his anger slowly turning into hatred. He wasn't quite sure that it was exactly hatred, he never had experienced it before, but something told him that was it. He was looking at Dudley, who was staring at him with his mouth open wide, trying to scream, and all that Harry could think of was pain. He wanted Dudley to feel his pain. To feel the blows and kicks, to feel... Dudley shrieked in agony and began wailing - his leg broke, a fractured bone came out through torn flesh, covered in blood. Harry relaxed and fell on his back, paying no attention to his own pain - he didn't feel it, it became numb, all he could feel was that particular feeling of freedom.

Of course he was punished. Severely. He spent yet another week in the cupboard in the near dead state. And yet he lived, again. This time Vernon decided to prolong his pain by adding a few blows here and there once in a few days, seeing that Harry wasn't going to pass soon. And pain it was. Unable to deal with it physically and feeling completely out of time and reality, Harry slowly retreated into his own mind, being seemingly present and yet being far away from his own body at the same time. He could see Vernon beating him, but he couldn't feel him anymore. He simply watched through the veil. When he was left alone for good and was even given some water, he realized that he could move inside his mind. It was a strange space more like nothingness than something specific. It was dull grey and here and there Harry could see little black cracks, just like the cracks in the paint on the wall of his cupboard. He simply sat there and watched these cracks, fascinated with them and the lightness that this space provided him with. Reluctantly, he left when he realized that his body began to burn with fever. He came back to agonizing pain and seizure and yet he could feel that once again his body was almost healed and he could move his limbs a little.

**xxx**

It was at the beginning of the summer when Harry knew something was different. Something about him was different. He felt out of place, he felt strange apprehension. He was changing and so was the world around him. Vernon said they were going to put him into the asylum, he said that Harry was too dangerous to live amongst normal sane people, that his freakishness was actually an insanity and he was forever condemned to spend his days tied to a bed. A week had passed, and yet nobody came for him. Harry kept working in the garden, washing, cleaning...

It was so hot outside under the sun, he felt dizzy. Harry crawled into the shadows behind the house, desperately trying not to faint. He knew he would be punished for not completing his chores but he was exhausted beyond comprehension, he wanted to sleep and he wanted to drink even more. He heard Petunia calling for him, threatening him, but he tuned her out and fell into exhausted slumber. He was roughly awaken by the kick on his side. He cracked his eyes open only to see Vernon standing over him, smiling viciously with a dangerous glee in his eyes.

"Get up, freak, tomorrow I'm taking you to the asylum, they will take out your freakishness, they will make you normal..." He kept uttering, while Harry tried to come back to his senses. His head hurt horribly, like if it was hit with a hammer. He tried to get up but succeeded only on his second try. Shaking slightly, Harry stood up and faced Vernon who, kept smiling and rubbing his hands in anticipation.

"I'm not crazy, I'm not going to the asylum," Harry whispered, suddenly feeling sober and scared. He somehow knew that he won't be able to escape from the asylum, he knew he would die in there. Dread squeezed his heart and he swallowed hard, looking at Vernon with horror.

"Yes you are and yes you are going! There is nothing you can do about it, freak, NOTHING," Vernon spat and towered over the thin boy, swaying dangerously under his own weight.

"I won't go, you can't make me..." Harry felt unbidden tears in his eyes threatening to fall on his face. When was the last time he cried? He never cried in front of Vernon, not since he could walk and talk. He wasn't going to cry now and he wasn't going to that blasted hospital, "I'm staying here."

"Are you now? Little shit, I will make you! And if you throw one of your freakish tantrums I will personally kill you with my bare hands, you little bastard!"

"Make me!" Harry cried and stopped abruptly feeling his stomach turning upside down. Did he really want to challenge Vernon?

"You freak!" One blow and another and another. Harry was rolling on the ground, whimpering and clutching onto himself, trying to get away from the huge fists...

He woke up in the middle of the night still lying on the grass in the yard, his battered body aching all over. Harry opened his eyes and swallowed his own blood. This was the end of it. He was so tired. He felt hollow inside, like somebody took a big spoon and took out a huge part of himself leaving an empty shell behind. Harry tried to cry but his eyes were dry. And he felt this apprehension again. It was itching underneath his skin and he couldn't take it any longer, he needed to get rid of it, it was as annoying and tiring as the constant pain he's been living in these past several months. What had he done to deserve it all? Hadn't he been a good obedient boy? He cleaned and worked and washed and cooked and let himself be beaten and broken... What else did they want from him? Why couldn't they just accept him and leave him alone? It's not like he made all those freakish things on purpose - he was scared.

He hated being scared. And he was scared now. So scared and so tired. Harry closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He winced in pain and suddenly he was in his mind again. Again he found himself in that grey place with black cracks. Those cracks grew bigger he noticed, there were more of them, they were thicker and longer. He got up and slowly approached the one nearest to him. It felt warm. He reached out and touched it - it pulsed under his hand and he shivered with pleasure. He pushed a little and suddenly it cracked a little more, becoming a bit thicker. Harry smiled. He pushed with both hands and found himself standing in front of the black hole size of the melon. Harry touched the darkness inside and it purred at him. Harry laughed and purred in return. He reached further, tangling his hands deeper into the hole and felt something falling into his hands. He pulled back and found a box of matches in his palm. It was a plain black box. Harry opened it and found a few black matches inside. Not paying it any mind he took out one match and stroke it on the box. It lit up with a nice blue flame. Harry smiled and watched the flame, fascinated with it. When the match went out, he took out another and stroke it as well. He used all the matches when he finally began feeling really hot.

Harry decided his body was in fever again and retreated back to reality, only to find himself sweating furiously and burning on the side. Harry sat up with a start, his chest constricted and he realized he couldn't breathe. When he opened his eyes, he couldn't believe them at first. He was in the middle of the fire, everything around him was burning. He heard cracking of wood inside of the house, he heard distant cries somewhere inside as well. He stood up from the dry grass and looked around: he was alone in the yard next to the burning house. The Dursley's burning house. Harry stumbled forward and fell on his knees, coughing and spitting blood. The last thing he felt were strong arms around his middle and a deep male voice breathed into his ear, "Hold on there, lad, you're safe". And he was.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, violence._

* * *

Harry Potter stood at the gates of St Martin's orphanage and watched the children play in the front yard. He spent a week at the hospital, being interrogated almost every day by a kind looking police woman. She kept asking him the same questions over and over again, smiling at him all the time. Harry thought she was very strange but he knew better and kept answering her as polite as he could, never once changing his answers. Yes, he lived with the Dursleys for his whole life. Yes, his parents were dead but he didn't know how they died. Yes, Vernon sometimes punished him with a belt or a fist. No, he didn't know how the fire started, he was unconscious at that time. And so on and so on. The officer also told him that all the three Dursleys died in the fire and that he was lucky he was in the yard - otherwise he would have died as well. She also told him his name. Harry James Potter. And so with his name in his mind he was brought to St Martin's.

Ms Smith, the caretaker, ushered him inside. She showed him the rooms children slept in, the bathrooms, the main hall for meals, the classes and the library. The orphanage was small, old and very poor, it was crumbling and rotting slowly. Harry met a few other children, who looked at him viciously, daring him to do something wrong, say the wrong word. He felt his last hopes shutter on the dirty floor of the main hall. He only hoped it would be better than the Dursleys. Ms Smith acted warily around him, either caring for his feelings or simply being afraid for her orphanage - of course she knew the circumstances of his departure from his family home, and she probably thought he burnt the house and his family and he was going to do the same here. Harry still wasn't sure the fire was his fault, how could he possibly set the house on fire, while being unable to move and being inside of his own mind? He didn't understand and honestly he didn't really care. He was sad that his relatives died - he never really wished them dead, but he didn't miss them nonetheless, and he was certain, he would be better off without them.

However, first few days of his 'new life' at St Martin's proved him wrong - it was no way better than the Dursleys. The children there were vultures. They all despised Harry and tried hard to make his life a living hell. Harry asked Ms Smith about it and she told him that all the children there had only one wish - to be adopted, and the more new children came to the orphanage the smaller were their chances to be chosen by parents. Harry could understand that, so he simply decided to avoid confrontations by isolating himself from the others (which of course didn't always work). He couldn't read well and so he dived into reading, with determination to learn and to be able to read as many books as possible - nobody would want to adopt a stupid child now, wouldn't they?

By his seventh birthday, which he found out from his papers was on the 31st of july, Harry learnt to read and to write very well and of that he was proud. He spent his days in the library, or outside in the bushes, reading every book there was, not really caring for the subject or it's difficulty, although most of all he preferred fairy tales about magic. Sometimes, late at night, while lying in his bed among other children in their room, he would dream that his freakishness was magic and one day people would look at him with awe and would like him.

**xxx**

Harry decided to explore his mind some more and after a few failed attempts he finally managed to enter his grey place of a mind only to find all the cracks even bigger than before and the hole almost as big as he himself. Harry touched the darkness again and it hummed in response, making him smile and sigh contently. It was so comfortable in there, Harry wouldn't leave if it was possible. He remembered the box of matches and decided to try and take out something else. Unfortunately there was nothing there for him to find, no mater how deep into the hole he tried to push. Harry decided he would find something the next time and went back to reality. He wondered why the cracks kept growing but there was no answer so he brushed it off.

It was some weeks later Harry discovered his new way of freakishness. He was looking for a book of his favorite fairy tales older boys hid from him, the book wasn't his and children were not allowed to take books from the library, the books were to be put in their places at the end of the day. If anybody lost a book, he or she would be punished. And so Harry was looking for the damned book all over the orphanage, trying to guess where could they have hidden it. It was late evening and he began to panick. He wanted to find it so badly, he needed to find it as soon as possible. Tired and sad, he sat down on his bed dreading the morning to come, when their teacher would find one of the books was missing. Harry hid his face in his hands - he needed this damn book right here and right now. He stretched his hands out imagining it was in his palms, desperately wishing to feel it's weight, when suddenly he felt it. He opened his eyes and saw the book slowly gliding to him through the air, as if carried on an invisible tray. Harry stared at it with wide eyes, watching it smoothly fall into his palms. He couldn't believe it and yet there it was. This wasn't possible. Harry ran to the library and put the book on the shelf and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He blinked a few times at the book, as if daring it to vanish into the thin air, but nothing changed. Harry smiled and went to bed, determined to try and do it again tomorrow. And so he did.

**xxx**

It was almost Christmas time when Harry finally developed his new 'skill' quite well to be able to summon practically anything from anywhere. When nobody was watching, Harry wouldn't even get up from the chair in the library - simply will the book he needed to fly into his hands. Yes, they didn't glide slowly anymore, they flew swiftly and smoothly. Harry found he could not only summon the objects he needed but also move them any way he pleased. Thus he was able to make almost all light weighted objects in the room fly around him.

A few days after Christmas a married couple visited St Martins in order to find a child for adoption. All children lined up in the main hall, presenting themselves at the best of their abilities. Harry stood at the end of the line, fidgeting ever so slightly, telling himself that with his luck and his freakishness he shouldn't even hope to get adopted, let alone be interesting enough to be looked at. The couple walked slowly past children and smiled at them warmly. They reached the end of the line and were going to turn back, when the woman suddenly saw Harry and her smile grew wider. There was a hungry look in her eyes which Harry couldn't really decipher. She tagged her husband on the sleeve of his jacket and they approached Harry.

"Hello there, little angel, what is your name?" the woman crooned, grinning at him.

"Hello, my name is Harry."

"Harry! What a lovely name! How old are you, dear?"

"I'm seven, madame."

"Harry we like you very much, what do you think if we talk a little in private?" the man said and Ms Smith pushed Harry out of the hall to follow the couple. Harry's head was spinning. He didn't know what to think. They entered the empty classroom and Ms Smith left, sending Harry a meaningful glare.

"Harry, my name is Linda," the woman reached out to shake his hand and Harry accepted it warily, "You're such a beautiful child! Your copper hair and green eyes are something, I'm completely in love with you!" she crooned in a sickeningly sweet tone, which aunt Petunia usually used for Dudley. Harry wanted to gag. So they wanted him for his look, which would probably mean they wouldn't beat him.

"Harry, why want you tell us about yourself? My name is Martin, by the way," the man smiled encouragingly.

"Well... I can read and write well, I can cook, clean, wash..." Harry honestly didn't know what was he supposed to tell except the truth. Maybe he should tell them about the freakishness? They wouldn't want somebody like him.

"Harry, what was your life before the orphanage, we know you used to live with your family?"

"Um... they used to beat me a lot and they say I burnt the house, but I didn't!" Harry blushed, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Nonsense! Of course you couldn't do that! Harry, but why did they beat you?" the man asked.

"Because I'm... different," Harry shifted on his feet, looking at the floor. After a moment spent in a tensed silence, the woman finally asked, "What do you mean different?"

Harry looked at them and saw only interest and concern in their eyes. Maybe it's worth a try? He turned to his left, reached out with his left hand and made a few chairs fly up and circle around the teacher's desk. After he put them all back, he glanced at the couple and felt a pang of disappointment in his heart: of course, they were staring at him with wide eyes filled with horror. He shifted uncomfortably, shooting shy glances at the pair - they were slowly backing away from him, trying to get closer to the door.

"Y-you know, lad, I... we won't tell anybody about this," the man waved his hand in the direction of the chairs, his face was so pale Harry thought he would faint, "But I think we should be really going, take a look at he others maybe... At another orphanage..."

Harry didn't hear the rest. He sighed and sat down heavily. Well that went well, didn't it, Harry? So much for wanting a new family. What was he thinking, really? He shouldn't tell anybody about his 'differences', he was lucky these two didn't call the police.

Harry was beaten by a few older boys for being chosen but was left in a rather good condition, due to the fact that he didn't get adopted after all. His routine at St Martin's continued. He excelled in their classes, spent most of his time in the library, got beaten once or twice a week (not that he couldn't fight back he simply knew that the lack of resistance would make the beating much shorter and less painful). Harry rarely looked back at his life trying not to dwell on the past. He never made any friends, most children were either cold or aggressive towards him and he didn't feel any sympathy towards them either. They were surviving and waiting for a miracle to come. Although Harry would remind himself once in a while that there was no such thing as a miracle, for if there was he wouldn't be here in the first place.

**xxx**

Watching some of the younger children being adopted saddened him to no end. He was a little jealous, of course, but most of all he felt disappointed and even betrayed. He was so different, he was such a freak, not even his looks could help him find a new home. Most potential parents looked at him as if he was a little kitten they could coddle and show off, yet they were wary of him when he spoke to them. He couldn't help but look at them with such despair and displeasure in his eyes, they simply found themselves uncomfortable in his presence. Well, his scars and beating marks didn't really help the matter either. By the age of nine Harry realized he would never be adopted - he was too old, no children over eight were ever adopted from St Martin's.

His birthday was a bitter occasion, for he spent the entire day brooding in his room, trying to convince himself that it wasn't worth it. How could he hope that there was somebody out there, who would understand and accept him when even his own relatives, his flesh and blood, despised him? Did he really need a family anyway? Harry wasn't so sure he wanted to work for his keep again. At the orphanage all the children we treated equally and shared the same amount of chores and that suited him very well. He came to a conclusion that the only thing about the orphanage he didn't like was the constant beating, but then again who was to say that the people who could adopt him wouldn't turn out to be the Dursleys number 2? Harry decided he wouldn't get upset over it anymore, he needed to find a way to get the older boys off of his back.

The answer came unexpectedly and rather ironically from a dog. Harry enjoyed walking the streets around the orphanage, for they were usually quiet and empty. He would look into the windows of the shops and flats and make notes of how normal people lived and behaved. He couldn't see that much of a difference between them and himself, and yet he doubted they had any kind of freakishness, judging by their dull way of life. He walked down the street pushing an empty can around with his feet, when he heard a low growl from behind. He turned around only to come face to face with a huge angry looking bulldog. Harry caught his breath and took a step back.

The bulldog stood his ground and kept glaring and growling at him. At first, there was only one thought in Harry's head: "RUN", but after a few deep breaths his head cleared and he decided to stop running but to face his problems like a man should. He straightened himself and glared back at the animal. The beast didn't cower, only snarled. Harry snarled in response. He suddenly remembered Riper and another much more interesting thought came into his mind: could he make this dog drop dead as well? Could he kill again? Would he kill again? Harry tried to recall what exactly did he do that day, how he felt when Riper died. He thought about anger and fear. Was he afraid now? No, not really, but he was angry, angry at the bloody dog (why couldn't the damn beasts leave him in peace?), angry at his tormentors at the orphanage, angry at the Dursleys and Marge, angry at himself for being so weak. Yes, that was it, he was weak. He was so weak, even dogs could get to him. Harry clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at the bulldog: now was the time he changed it all. Determined, he took a step closer to the dog and was met with a low warning growl. He wouldn't back down, not now, not anymore.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and let the wave of anger wash over him. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears and he could feel his feet become lighter and numb. Harry opened his eyes and if he could see himself at that moment, he would have noticed the green colour of his orbs turning a few shades paler and brighter, shining from the inside with a dangerous gleam. He didn't see it but he felt it - the rush of power surged through his veins making his body jerk. All he had to do was to look at the dog and wish it to die. He didn't know how he knew that but he was certain that was the right way. Harry wished dearly for it to die, if only to prove himself strong. He didn't even have the time to think about it more thoroughly - his eyes met the familiar sight of a dead dog lying at his feet. So he did it. He killed it. The rush of pleasure, freedom, satisfaction pulsed through his body and for a few moments he felt lightheaded and completely lost in the feeling. That was exactly what he was looking for.

Harry never was the first to start a fight, he wasn't aggressive in his nature, he never felt need to seek out problems on his hide - usually they found him instead. And so the following year at St Martin's was spent in a new routine: Harry would study hard, would isolate himself from other children and when the older ones would seek him out to entertain themselves - he would fight back. He did it subtly, for he knew Ms Smith wouldn't hesitate to call the police should he show any unnecessary violence towards the others, so he carefully and slowly started using his 'powers' on others. Though Harry was tall, he was very thin, a bag of bones to be precise, and lacked any physical advantage in comparison with his tormentors. He knew he could break their bones and make it look like an accident. And so he did.

The boys didn't pay that any attention at first, just like he wanted - somebody always broke a bone or two at the orphanage, nothing unusual. And yet, after a few fights and a few constant injures, they started to realize that Harry could have possibly pulled that off. They became suspicious. But Harry didn't mind, he knew nobody would believe them even if they figured him out, so he kept cruelly breaking their bones, every time adding a little more pressure, a little more fracture. One of the boys broke his neck and the beatings came to a halt. Nobody suspected Harry then and nobody suspected him when the leader of the gang fell out of the window either. How could Harry do it, really, if he was sitting outside, watching? The boy didn't die - it wasn't Harry's intention after all - he simply couldn't walk anymore, which was fine with Harry. Fine indeed. Other children knew what was going on and never interfered, but never spoke to Harry either, which was fine with him as well. They were afraid of him, he knew that, and he felt content.

**xxx**

It was an early evening on the 23d of july 1991 when a big brown owl landed on the windowsill right in front of Harry, who was lying in his bed, watching the first stars appear in the dark blue sky through the open window. Harry sat up and looked at the unusual guest, intrigued. The owl jumped closer and hooted, throwing an envelope into his lap. Harry looked at the envelope in wonder: he had never once in his life received a letter, he didn't know anybody else except the people he lived with. Was it really for him? He took the envelope into his hands and examined it thoroughly. It was made of a heavy yellowish paper that smelled old and spicy. In a beautiful handwriting was written: Mr H. Potter, the last room on the left, the second bed on the right, St Martin's orphanage, London. On the back of the envelope Harry found a small red seal of wax with an H and four animals.

After a moment of hesitation Harry looked at the owl, who glared at him in response and hooted loudly, urging him to open the blasted envelope. Harry complied. Inside he found a letter telling him that he was accepted into the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry read it over again and then again, but he still couldn't comprehend it. His head was spinning and if he wasn't sitting already, he might have fallen down for he suddenly couldn't feel his feet anymore. The thoughts spiraled frantically in his head. This wasn't real, this couldn't be real. Could it? If everything that had ever happened to him and everything he could do could be explained and could be called magic... Well, it seemed only logical then. He had something others hadn't and it was called magic and there was a school for people like him, he wasn't the only one with this freakishness... magic. So it was true, the magic existed. Of course, he wouldn't base his faith and hopes on a strange letter but still, the possibility... Harry opened the second paper and scanned the list of required material. It didn't seem to register in his brain and he returned to the first paper. He scanned it once again and finally stopped at the line "We await your owl by no later than 31st of July". So he should write an answer. Harry looked at the owl again, who was eyeing him with disdain and impatience. Harry stared at the letter: what should he write in response?

**xxx**

Albus Dumbledore was enjoying his afternoon tea, in a not so pleasant yet not uncomfortable company of his Potions teacher Severus Snape, in his office, when Minerva McGonagall all but ran inside, her face full of determination and anger, which was a very dangerous mixture, judging by the fact that the latter was addressed towards Albus himself. She huffed in annoyance when Severus rolled his eyes at her antics and attacked headmaster, "Albus, this is outrageous! I told you, I warned you about those horrid muggles but you never listened and now THIS, how are we supposed to deal with THIS?!", she was clutching a piece of white paper in one of her fists, shaking it in the air next to his face.

"Minerva, please, explain, I can't make any sense of what you are saying," Albus smiled at her sweetly, his eyes twinkling, which made Severus shudder.

"Explain? EXPLAIN?" she shrieked, "Let me explain, listen closely to what I received just now from one of our future students!" She drew in a deep breath and straightened, glaring at the smiling headmaster and bored potions master. Minerva smoothed out the paper in her trembling hands, cleared her throat and read out loud:

_Dear deputy headmistress McGonagall,_

_I was surprised to receive your letter. To be honest, I never knew that magic existed until your letter, I never knew I myself could do magic. And although I am very excited and flattered by the fact that I was accepted into your school, I have no knowledge of the world of magic and I don't know where to buy all the required supplies, and as an orphan I don't own any money so I have no means to buy them. I don't want to be a burden, so please excuse me for my ignorance and boldness, but is it possible for somebody to help me? _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Harry Potter._

"Well... I didn't expect Petunia to be very vocal about magic but I honestly didn't expect her to leave him in the dark," the headmaster looked befuddled. Severus only snorted and shook his head.

"Really, Albus, I was sure you would put the boy somewhere safe, but to put him with that vile woman? I wouldn't even expect her to take him in, in the first place. She hated Lily and she couldn't possibly accept her son-"

"Well, Severus, you are actually right," Minerva cut him off and Severus looked at her in surprise.

"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" Albus furrowed his white eyebrows in bewilderment.

"What I mean, Albus, is that the acceptance letter found Mr Potter at the St Martin's orphanage and not the Private Drive!" Minerva couldn't hide a sob that threatened to escape her throat, "James' and Lily's child grew up in the orphanage without any family, without any knowledge of who he is and where he truly belongs! And you know what, I blame you!" she threw the crumbled paper into his face and strode out of the office, her back stiff, her head bowed in regret.

Severus, who lost his usual stony mask during the reading of the letter and Minerva's outburst, tried desperately to hide his own bewilderment and anger, but failed and decided to glare at Albus instead, "So, am I right to presume that you left the brat at Petunia's and never even checked on him once afterwards?"

Albus bowed his head in shame. Well, to put it bluntly, that was precisely what he did. "I think I should pay Petunia a visit, and discuss this... uncomfortable situation. And then I should pay Harry a visit myself, although I can't take him to the Diagon Alley, what do you say, Severus, would you help young Harry get accustomed in our world?" there was his mad twinkling again. Severus looked like he ate a lemon.

"Now, now, Severus, my boy, I am sure young Harry is a very nice young man, look at his letter, so very well written and that handwriting!"

"Why can't you take Minerva instead?" Severus tried to sound exasperated but sounded rather desperate instead.

"Well, Minerva is too attached, I suppose. And it wouldn't do any good to take her to the Dursleys..."

"And what makes you think it is any good to take ME to the Dursleys?"

"Oh, but Severus, your talent of intimidation would come in rather handy, would it not?" Albus smiled and twinkled at the potions master mischievously.

**xxx**

Severus couldn't fathom what exactly happened but somehow the old coot managed to convince him to tag along. The potions master was telling himself that he didn't feel any kind of obligation, didn't owe the brat anything at all, for unless said brat wasn't in danger, he wasn't and couldn't be of any concern to Severus. Well, looks like Albus decided to change that. Severus and Albus, both dressed in muggle style, stood on the porch of the house number 4 of Private Drive and waited for the door to be answered. A moment later the door opened and they were greeted by an old woman, who looked at them with blank unseeing eyes.

"How can I help you, lads?"

"We would like to speak to Petunia Dursley, madame," Albus gave her one of his charming smiles.

"Oh... Oh, lads, I am sorry, but you must be mistaken, Petunia Dursley doesn't live here, in fact, the Dursleys that used to live here died a few years ago in the fire."

"What?!" both Severus and Albus sputtered.

"Yes, yes, awful fire there was, one of the neighbors told me, awful fire, the whole house burned down with all three of them inside. The firemen couldn't safe them, they couldn't stop the fire for more than an hour! Horrible, horrible death!" she shook her head, "Although that little boy was lucky. Neighbors say they had a little boy, a nephew of some kind, who survived in the fire, firemen found him in the yard..."

"Thank you, madame, you were most informative. Excuse us for our intrusion, good day!" Albus all but barked in response and started walking fast to the nearest secluded point to apparate. Severus followed him, a scowl on his face.

"Albus, I don't think the fire was an accident. It could very well be accidental magic or even an attack."

"Yes, Severus, my thoughts exactly," the headmaster sighed and rubbed his tired eyes with his hand, "We should go to the orphanage right now."

They both turned around the nearest corner and vanished into the thin air.

**xxx**

Harry lay on his bed under a lazy summer breeze coming from the open window. He was inside his mind, which had developed during the last two years. The grey space was now mostly black - most cracks disappeared leaving darkness behind, and now Harry spent most of his free time in there, playing with the darkness that hummed lullabies into his ears and enveloped him into warm hugs and covered his copper hair with featherlight kisses. This darkness, Harry knew, was a part of himself, it was something wild and impulsive from deep inside of him, it came out and brought him peace and freedom. In fact, Harry knew, that every time he did his freaki... something magical, the cracks grew bigger and more darkness leaked through. And he loved it, he loved his darkness and cherished it, stroking and caressing it in return.

Sometimes he thought it strange to be so affectionate towards the part of himself, but then again, nobody had ever been affectionate towards him, nobody ever cared for him like his darkness did. And it did, oh it did. He felt free and strong, so strong. And now that he knew that magic existed and that he was magical, he felt confident, he found a reason to fight and to live, he had an aim now, he had hopes for the better future. His darkness was his magic, he knew that now, and it was his and his alone, and he felt ecstatic. He woke to the sound of Ms Smith's voice behind the door, informing him that somebody came to visit him, somebody from a boarding school. Harry sprang up and a huge grin appeared on his face, one so rare, that his facial muscles ached. Somebody came to him, somebody from Hogwarts! He jumped from the bed and ran to the door.

Harry tentatively stepped into one of the classrooms where Ms Smith told him he was to meet his visitors. His eyes took in two strangers and he instantly knew they were different, they were magical, they were like him.

"Ah, Harry, my boy, how nice it is to see you!" an old man with a long white beard chirped in that sickeningly sweet voice that Harry disliked so much, "My name is Albus Dumbledore and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Headmaster? Sir, you came all this way down here just for me? You shouldn't have!" Harry tried very hard not to gape. He couldn't believe that the headmaster himself would come to visit somebody as insignificant as Harry Potter. Albus only shook his head and laughed - the child was so modest and innocent, it was a true miracle he stayed that way in such a hell hole.

"Oh, but, Harry, of course I would come myself to greet you! And this fine young man here is our potions master, professor Severus Snape, he will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts," he gestured at the tall pale man, whose onyx eyes were wide in surprise and didn't leave Harry's face for a second. And Severus was indeed surprised. He never expected Harry bloody Potter to be everything but Potter. He was meant to be born a carbon copy of his damned father, but instead he was a copy of Lily with a subtle masculinity to his features and a long straight nose, uncharacteristic for both James and Lily. Maybe he took only after Evanses? But that was impossible. In the wizarding world children always took after their magical parents, especially in pureblood families like Potters. Harry Potter seemed to be more and more intriguing.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Potter," Severus said and Harry smiled at him shyly. He rather liked the intimidating professor. The man was screaming power, darkness, and Harry felt attracted to this.

"Now, Harry, I would like us to discuss the grave matter of your family first and then we will talk all about magic and wonders of the wizarding world, alright?" Harry nodded and sat down on the chair facing both professors.

"Well, Harry," Albus began, his pale blue eyes searching the boy's face, "It came to my attention that you aunt and uncle and cousin died a few years ago and I can't bring myself to accept this horrible tragedy, you see, they were your only family and I was certain you would be happy and safe living with them. Could you please tell me what happened that night when the fire started?"

Harry tilted his head to the side and frowned. So headmaster was the one to put him with the Dursleys. Well, one more reason to be wary of the man. Harry knew perfectly well that people wore masks, he himself wore one rather masterfully. He felt that headmaster was far more than what met the eye and his grandfatherly façade wouldn't fool Harry.

"It's really hard for me to tell you this, headmaster, but my relatives hated me and my uncle used to beat me every time he deemed necessary, so the reason why I was in the yard and not in the house was that he'd beaten me so hard I couldn't walk back inside," Severus shifted in his seat uncomfortably and something like understanding flashed through his eyes, Harry wasn't sure, but the thought gave him a little bit of comfort.

"Now, Harry, don't you think you exaggerate a little?" Albus smiled at him sweetly but Harry only shook his head.

"I was unconscious most of the night so when I woke up the fire had already spread and I honestly have no idea how and why did it start."

"What else did they do to you?" professor Snape suddenly asked and the headmaster shot him a worried and confused look.

"I slept in the cupboard, sir. Now I know that it was wrong, for even here I have my own bed in the room, but back then I thought it was alright to sleep in the cupboard. They starved me when I misbehaved or, in my case, wasn't able to complete my chores in time, or spoke out loud or simply showed my face at the wrong time. Uncle Vernon used to beat me with a belt, but when i got older he started using his fists and boots. My cousin Dudley and his friends used to chase me and beat me as well. I cooked, cleaned and worked in the garden. In all honesty, I could say I was a slave there."

"Harry, this..." Albus started but was cut off by Severus:

"And here, what is your life like at the orphanage?"

"I used to have a hard time at first with the older children, but now it's fine, I am now one of the older ones and nobody disturbs me. I learnt to read and write here, I learnt math and even a little bit of physics. I've read all the books we have here at our little library and I am eager to learn more about magic," Harry smiled a small shy smile and Severus wanted to strangle Dumbledore with his bare hands. Lily's son (there was nothing of James here, so Severus decided to forget about his existence altogether) had to endure such a horrible life only because of one senile headmaster.

"Well, Harry, I'm glad you feel comfortable here, although it is, of course, a little disturbing that you prefer an orphanage to a family, but... ah, oh well. You see, Harry, the reason why you were placed with your relatives in the first place is that you were and are in a grave danger. And we will need to find a suitable wizarding family for you to stay with during summer holidays while you are at Hogwarts..."

"Grave danger, sir?" Harry interrupted, truly intrigued now.

"I see, Petunia never told you about your parents?"

"No, sir, all I ever heard was that they died and were awful low-life people," at this Severus snorted and shook his head in disdain. Harry inwardly agreed with him.

"Well, my boy, you see, your parents were powerful wizards and they fought for the Light. Unfortunately, the time of your birth came right in the middle of a war between the light and the dark wizards. Your family was targeted by the leader of the dark forces, Lord Voldemort. He came to your house on Halloween and killed both your parents and tried to kill you. But the Killing Curse - a spell designed to kill instantly - that he used, didn't kill you but rebounded back at Voldemort and he vanished. People say he died and you are quite a celebrity right now, a Bow-Who-Lived they call you, but I am sure that Voldemort didn't die and still poses a threat to you, as well as some of his followers that are still free."

Harry, who was looking at his feet throughout the whole story, glanced at professor Snape only to see deep sorrow in his eyes. He lowered his eyes again and swallowed, "Well, sir, I honestly don't know what to say..."

"It's alright my boy, you need time to digest it all, of course. I will set protective wards around the orphanage for the rest of your stay here, and professor Snape here is the one who will take you to Diagon Alley to buy your supplies whenever you are ready, my boy. Ah and the money is not an issue, your parents left you quite enough in your vault, I will give professor your key and you will be able to buy everything you need," Albus clapped his hands in pleasure and smiled at Harry, twinkling madly. Harry shuddered and sent Severus a pleading look. Severus gave him a small nod.

"If it's alright with you, professor Snape, may we visit Diagon Alley tonight?"

"Be my guest, I have no desire to come back here once more for your sake," Severus drawled, already back in his usual snarky mode.

"Well, that's settled then," Albus smiled and stood up, "I suggest you leave now, my boys, and I will have a little chat with Ms Smith and complete the paperwork," and with that he glided out of the room humming under his breath.

Harry looked at Severus with an evident interest now. Severus watched him carefully in return. The child was an enigma, and a challenge. And Severus loved challenges.

**xxx**

Harry's first apparation experience was... enlightening. Now he knew how he appeared on the roof once, back at the Dursleys'. Professor Snape told him he wasn't going to go all soft on him, simply because he had no experience, and wasn't going to use all the muggle means of transport and waste his precious time on that. Harry didn't complain. They appeared in front of the Leaky Cauldron pub and before they entered, professor told Harry to cover his scar with his fringe, otherwise Harry's fans would trample them down in a second. Harry obeyed, dreading unwanted attention. He could accept the fact that a dark wizard killed his family, he could accept that he somehow vanished that wizard... but accepting his celebrity status was, frankly speaking, beyond Harry. Yes, he always wanted people to like him, but never in such a disconcerting way. They entered the pub and went straight to the back and into the backyard. Professor told Harry to look closely and knocked on several bricks in the wall in a pattern. In a moment the wall began to move and all Harry could do was stare at the view in front of him. Well, Diagon Alley was definitely magical, to the very core. Professor tagged him in the direction of the bank. They passed by the most interesting looking people Harry had ever seen. Everything about them screamed magic and their carefree positive attitude sparked hope in Harry's heart - he knew he belonged here. His darkness hummed in content agreement.

After meeting the goblins and traveling down to his vault Harry asked professor if it was possible to get money through the post. Severus only smirked at him, but the amusement was evident in his eyes. Harry bought a special magical purse through which he could always get as much money as he needed. That was a relief. Next they went to get him his robes, and professor told him he should buy himself new everyday clothes as well for it would be no good to walk around Hogwarts in his orphan hand-me-downs. That was an easy task for Harry, the one he accepted with great pleasure. He was too thin for his age and the well fitting clothes made him look even thinner but he didn't mind. Next they bought him a trunk, a school bag, and a potion kit. Professor told him that if Harry wouldn't excel at potions, he would spend his every evening in detention, scrubbing the cauldrons and cutting flobberwarms. After seeing all the ingredients at the apothecary, Harry vowed to himself that he will excel at potions no matter what. At the bookstore Harry asked professor what books should he read to get acquainted with the wizarding world beforehand. Severus looked at him with a small glint of pride in his eyes and collected a few books on history and etiquette for him. Harry was ecstatic.

While walking to the counter Harry suddenly asked, "Professor Snape, sir, what is the difference between the light and the dark?" Severus stopped and looked at him puzzled.

"What do you mean, Mr Potter?"

"Well, if there was a war between them, then there must be some significant difference between them in their magic, right? Or did they really called themselves dark because they were 'bad' and light because they were 'good'?" Harry smirked at the ridiculous thought.

Severus eyed him for a moment and carefully replied, "There is indeed a difference, Mr Potter, dark wizards excel at dark magic which is based on strong emotions and requires a lot of energy, while light wizards excel at light magic which is based more on the talent and personality, rather than energy."

"Is there a good book about this? I would really like to base my opinion on some concrete facts."

"You want to learn about the dark magic?" Severus blinked at the boy. Harry nodded and smiled at him, his bright green eyes full of mirth and wonder.

Severus tapped his index finger on his chin in consideration and finally asked, "Do you realize, Mr Potter, that you are supposed to be a light wizard? You are already an icon of light, both your parents were positively light wizards and there are certain expectations you must live up to in this community?"

"Well it wouldn't hurt to know more about the... ah... opposing side, now, would it?" Harry smiled but inwardly he cursed. He was not pleased with the news. Not only was he a celebrity, but he was also supposed to be somebody he wasn't! Harry wasn't stupid, he was a dark wizard if his darkness was any indication of that, and now he was forced to pretend otherwise and hide his true nature. So much for the bloody freedom.

Severus didn't miss a flicker of anger and irritation in the glowing green eyes and for the second time he asked himself how was it possible that this boy was a Potter. He had a premonition that the boy was plotting something, but decided to go with the flow for the time being and succumb to child's logic, "You have a point, Mr Potter. I think I know just the book you need."

**xxx**

Harry didn't buy himself any familiar nor did he buy himself an owl. He had nobody to write to anyway, so what was the point? Their last stop was at the wand shop, Ollivander's. Harry suddenly realized that this was actually the most important object on his list. A wand! The shop was empty and quite dusty - Harry sneezed and jumped in surprise as someone's voice blessed him from the distance. A second later an old white haired man came to the counter and smiled at Harry.

"Ah, Mr Potter, I've been waiting to meet you, a pleasure, a pleasure, I am Mr Ollivander, the wandmaker."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Harry said politely, watching Ollivander closely. Something about the man made him want to fidget, but he restrained himself and straightened his back instead.

"Well, looking for a wand, are you not," Ollivander smiled once again and gave Severus a pointed look which the potions master couldn't understand. Ollivander asked Harry about his wand hand, took his measurements and started passing Harry a wand by wand. Harry discarded every one of them, not feeling anything and getting really bored at that.

Suddenly Ollivander started muttering under his nose something about 'curious' and 'interesting' and pulled out a very dusty box. He gave it to Harry and gestured for him to take the wand out. Harry could feel anticipation that all but oozed from Ollivander. He couldn't understand what was the man waiting for. Harry touched the wand and felt... nothing.

"I don't feel anything, just like with the others," he could see Ollivander's face fell and the wandmaker sighed in disappointment.

"Well, experiment failed. Let's see what else is there for you, young man. You are a rather difficult customer," with that he packed the strange wand and went back deep into the shop. Harry shrugged and turned around only to find professor Snape dozing off on the only chair in the shop. Harry snickered and turned back to the counter. Ollivander came back and his face lit up once again.

"Well, I think this one is yours, Mr Potter, I am almost certain, give it a try," with that he offered Harry a long thin crooked black wand, which looked more like a broken tree branch. Harry gently took it into his right hand and gasped at the rash of power that shot through his body. The wand shot out gold and silver sparks and Ollivander smiled broadly.

"Congratulations, Mr Potter, 13'' ash wood and a thestral hair, a very very peculiar wand if I must say."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at that and smiled. His darkness was thrilled with the wand and he felt like never letting it go. Severus came to his senses only to see Harry paying a very pleased looking Ollivander. He didn't pay it any mind and ushered Harry outside. Severus offered Harry to have lunch at the wizarding pub before going back to the orphanage and Harry readily agreed.

They sat at the table facing each other in a rather comfortable silence. Severus was studying the boy intently, trying to look through his very soul. He would have used legilimency, was it any other child, but this was Lily's son, he wouldn't sink that low. Harry was watching him closely in return.

Finally Severus gathered his courage and asked, "Am I right to presume that you are a dark wizard?"

"What makes you think so, professor?" Harry asked, curious to know the answer. He wasn't afraid of professor being right, he was a dark wizard himself, so it was only logical that he would feel Harry's darkness.

"Well, I can't help but question the way your relatives died. Abuse usually leads to a development of strong deep emotions such as hatred, fear, anger, scorn... All these emotions are the base of the dark magic, and the more those emotions are experienced the stronger the darkness resides inside of your magical core, which is usually neutral in children... To put it bluntly: I think that you had a burst of accidental magic after yet another beating and you were so angry and so scared that you unconsciously set the house on fire, you might not even remember doing it, but the fact remains."

"Yes, you're right," Harry decided to go with the truth. Severus widened his eyes in surprise but schooled his face back to an impassive mask once again.

"I see. What are you going to do about it, then? The wizarding world won't be happy with the news that their Light Savior is actually a dark wizard. You'll be shunned and feared, dare I say, hated."

"I understand. But honestly I don't really care. I never asked for any of this and as far as I can see, I did nothing to deserve this... fame. I would try to hide my true nature for the time being but if they will figure me out, I won't bow down in shame. I love my darkness and I see nothing wrong with it."

"You sound very mature," Severus didn't notice pride in his own voice, but Harry did and blushed a little. He would never get used to this wonderful feeling.

"I try. Sir, what about the headmaster?"

"He expects you to be the icon of the Light so I would give you a very good advice: don't get yourself into trouble/adventure whatever you call it. And never never meet the headmaster's eyes directly, otherwise he would, let's put it that way, read your mind and find out all your secrets," Severus didn't know why he said that but he felt that Harry would need to be protected not only from the Dark Lord but from Dumbledore as well. And he, Severus, was once again in the middle of this mess.

Harry nodded and thanked professor Snape.

After lunch Severus brought Harry back to St Martin's and told him how to get to the King's Cross and the platform 9 & 3/4. They bid each other goodbye and Severus apparated back to Hogwarts.

Harry couldn't wait for september to come.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** none_

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Harry stood on the platform 9&3/4 and watched the red steam train in awe. He never thought he would see something like this with his own eyes. Joy and excitement overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and sighed. Was it happiness that he felt? Probably. He opened his eyes, fixed his now too long fringe over the scar and got on the train. He walked past the empty compartments and decided to sit in the last one. He was 30 minutes earlier than necessary, but he did this on purpose - although he was excited to see other wizards, he wasn't that eager to make friends and preferred to travel alone. Harry sat next to the window and opened his potions book. Professor made him buy three different ones and Harry was dead set to learn them all by heart.

Slowly the platform began to fill with parents and children and Harry got distracted by the noise they were making. He looked out of the window. Adults were hugging their sons and daughters, a few women were even crying. Harry shook his head. He didn't feel any jealousy towards these children. He really didn't find it necessary to show such a specter of emotions. Silent warm embraces and featherlight kisses of his darkness were quite enough for him. Tears were such an embarrassment. Harry sighed and turned back to the book in his lap. The sound of rushing feet in the corridor told him that the train was about to depart.

After first 10 minutes of the ride the door to Harry's compartment opened and a gangly looking redheaded boy stumbled inside, "Can I sit here, everywhere else is full?"

Harry nodded and continued reading. The redhead looked at Harry's potions book and shuddered.

"Do you know who teaches potions at Hogwarts? Snape. The greasy git. My older brothers told me all about him, the stories I've heard, man, he's evil!"

"Really?" Harry drawled not really interested in the conversation. Although the thought of Snape being evil really entertained him. That is, if the redhead meant evil in the same context which Harry did, though Harry doubted it.

"Yeah! He hates Gryffindor and favours his Slytherins. And he's really mean!"

"Well, people usually have reasons to be mean towards the others, you know," Harry noted.

"Not slytherins, they are mean simply because they are evil."

"You have a very strange logic but I won't pressure you about that," Harry dropped his gaze back to the book hoping that the redhead would understand his signal that their conversation was dismissed. No, no such luck.

"Which house do you think you will get into?"

"I honestly don't care."

"I hope I will be in Gryffindor, my whole family are Gryffs, although I wouldn't mind other houses as well, but definitely not Slytherin!"

"I see," Harry decided to ignore the boy from now on.

"Hey, by the way, did you hear that Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts this year? I haven't seen him on the train yet but everybody's talking about him!"

"How do they know he will come this year?" now Harry was interested. Nobody knew what he looked like except for the two professors, it was rather curious how would people recognize him not seeing his scar.

"Oh I guess somebody, who works at the Ministry with the Hogwarts board, would know that," the redhead shrugged, "Oh, and by the way, I'm Ron Weasley."

Harry really didn't want to tell his name but knew it was inevitable. He opened his mouth to respond when the door to the compartment opened again. A bushy-haired girl stepped inside.

"Have you seen a toad? Neville lost it." Behind her stood a nervous plump boy, whose eyes darted from Harry to Ron and back.

"No," Harry continued reading, deciding this to be a good distraction from his name question. The girl didn't miss the sight of his book though and added in a bossy tone, "Is that a potions book? It wasn't on the list, I bought all the books and read them all a few times already. Is this one any good?"

"It wasn't on the list, professor suggested me to buy this one, yes it's good," he sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. So much for a pleasant lonely train ride.

"Professor? Why would a professor suggest you something that is not on the list? Special treatment?" she narrowed her eyes at him and Harry decided he was fed up with her antics.

"Yes, professor Snape, our potions teacher at Hogwarts, took me to Diagon Alley to help me buy all the supplies and told me to buy a few extra books on potions because he wants me to excel at his subject. Any questions?"

"You met Snape? He took you to D-" Ron squeaked and stared at him as if Harry was insane, "How did you survive, mate?"

"You're a muggleborn then?" the girl asked as well. Harry wanted to bang his head on the wall.

"I am not a muggleborn, I grew up in a muggle orphanage so I didn't know anything about magic until this summer. Professor Snape was the one who was sent by the school to help me. And yes, I survived, because he's not evil, he's a strict teacher, that is all."

Ron wasn't convinced and kept staring at him. The girl looked a little bit lost.

"Well, that explains it... I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom," she gestured at her silent companion who was still nervously watching the scene in front of him. Harry nodded and hid behind the book. She scowled at him.

"You know it's rude not to tell your name when everybody else had introduced themselves?"

"Is it?" Harry didn't even look at her. She huffed and left, closing the door with a bang behind her. The rest of the train ride was uneventful. Ron didn't try to talk to him anymore and nobody disturbed them either. Harry relaxed and soon forgot about everything around him, engrossed in the book, his darkness hummed into his ear contently, wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

When the train stopped and they stepped outside, Ron finally asked, "Um, well, you know, you never told me your name..."

"Harry Potter," Harry sighed and moved further into the mass of children, leaving a flabbergasted redhead behind.

**xxx**

The sight of the castle soaring over the lake in the darkness left Harry breathless. He had never seen anything so beautiful before. He could feel something pulling him closer to the school, calling for him in a hushed whisper. Harry smiled. Yes, he was certain, this was happiness.

**xxx**

Standing in the Great Hall Harry kept his gaze firmly on the enchanted ceiling waiting for his name to be called from the list. The Granger girl and that Longbottom boy were sorted into Gryffindor. Harry could feel Ron's eyes boring into the back of his head but he ignored him. He disarranged his hair letting the fringe fall back and opening his forehead. At the same moment he heard "Potter, Harry". He sighed and went to the stool. The hall felt silent for a moment and then broke into hushed whispers, everybody turned to get a better look at the Boy-Who-Lived. Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head and he felt something tagging him in the back of his mind.

_"Oh, child, such a powerful one and so young! You do remind me of one student I had met many years ago... You are a dark wizard, child, do you understand what it entails?"_

"I do. And no, I'm not planning to become a new Dark Lord. At least not like the last one."

_"Ah, I see what you mean. Such an ambitious young man. I can't decide between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, you would shine in both houses... Do you have any preferences?"_

"Not really."

_"Ah, but I think you do. Be careful what you wish for, little one._ SLYTHERIN!"

Harry took off the hat and was met with a grave silence of the Great Hall. Everybody watched him, disbelief clear in their eyes. Harry inwardly sneered at them and stood up, placed the hat into the hands of a flabbergasted professor McGonagal and walked to the slytherin table with his head held up high. He sat next to a blond boy with pale grey eyes who shot him a calculating look. The table burst into applause and older students looked around them with smug smiles on their faces. Harry glanced at professor Snape and got a slight nod in return. Harry smiled at him shyly and turned his attention to the plate in front of him. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and called the next name from the list. The redhead Weasley ended up in Gryffindor and kept shooting Harry angry glares. Harry ignored him. The blond boy on his left turned to him.

"I am Draco Malfoy, nice to meet you, Potter. Dare I say you look nothing like everybody expected you to? I'm not talking about your sorting - this is quite a shock."

"Nice to meet you, Malfoy. Dare I say it's rather ridiculous of people to expect anything from me when they never saw me and don't know the real me? As for the Potter genes, I am sorry!" Harry put his hands up in defeat, "So mush for the purity of blood," he smiled charmingly at Draco and the blonde smirked at him, his eyes laughing.

When headmaster stood up to address the students Harry decided to take a look at the teachers. His eyes roamed from one to another until he met the eyes of a young looking man in a big purple turban, sitting next to the potions master. Those eyes narrowed at him and Harry felt a slight burning in his scar. Now, that was suspicious. Harry glared at the man and for a mere second, it seemed, he caught the glimpse of the blood red orbs instead of brown ones. But the vision was gone and the man turned away from him. Harry knew something was not right. At this moment he caught up with the speech focusing on words about the third floor being off limits and promising a horrible death to the student body. Oh joy, it seemed wherever Harry went there was always death and destruction in the neighborhood.

**xxx**

In the common room, later in the evening, Harry and other first year snakes were listening to professor Snape's speech: "I am professor Snape, I am the head of the Slytherin house and a Potions teacher at Hogwarts. I want you all to remember the rules of our house: Slytherin is your new family and will be your family for the next seven years, which means that whatever is going on between the snakes stays in the common room. In class and in front of the other houses you are united, you are one and cover each other's backs. You don't get caught. You don't get caught by me. You make yourself presentable and you are polite towards all teachers. You don't fail in your studies. Our house had had The House Cup for the last seven years and your task is to keep it that way. If you have any questions or if you need any help, you are to see to your prefects. If you can't find your prefect, you are to come directly to me. If there are any matters you wish to bring to my attention before the start of the year, I am available at my office tomorrow morning from 7 to 8. Your sleeping and curfew schedules are on the information board on your left. I am not telling you that you are expected to keep your dormitories in order, as well as your common room. To bed now, all of you. Dissmissed." And with that the potions master left.

Harry got up and went to their dorm where his trunk had already been waiting for him at the foot of his bed. Harry rather liked it here in the dungeons, it was dark and cozy, although cold enough to have three blankets on each bed. Harry introduced himself to his roommates who were: Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle whose names he didn't catch and honestly didn't think he should, and Draco. After a few minutes of unpacking Harry changed into his pajamas and, with his wand under his pillow, he fell into a deep content sleep. His darkness embraced him and hummed an old lullaby into his ear.

**xxx**

When Harry entered the Great Hall to join his house for breakfast he had to clench his teeth really hard in order to prevent a deep scowl to appear on his face. Everybody went silent at his entrance and kept staring at him as if he had two heads. Great, even here in the wizarding world he was a bloody freak. Joy. He sat next to Draco, who was eyeing him with the same calculating look, just in time to receive his schedule from professor Snape, who quirked an eyebrow at Harry's obvious irritation. Harry shook his head and started reading the timetable. They had double potions with Gryffindor, then double History of Magic with Ravenclaws and lastly double Defense Against the Dark Arts again with Gryffindors. Double joy. Harry began eating fried eggs and bacon when he realized that all this time Draco had been staring at him. Harry sighed and turned to the blonde.

"Malfoy, I know what you are thinking. No, you are wrong. I am not going to be the leader, the Slytherin prince, the whatever titles there are, I know you want to lead - go ahead, you are welcome," he ate some more, ignoring Draco's shocked expression.

"Are you serious? You are the Boy-Who-Lived, do you honestly expect me to believe you are not going to use your fame and influence for your own benefit?"

"I am but not here, not in our house. However I am ready to use it for the benefit of our house and all the snakes, but I am not interested in ruling them."

The blonde gave him a long intensive look and finally said, "I see. Call me Draco then."

"Call me Harry. Glad we figured this one out. I thought you wanted me to choke under your stares."

"Oh well," Draco snickered and Harry smiled at him, amused. They finished their breakfast and left for the dungeons together.

**xxx**

Double potions class was highly entertaining. Professor Snape started his lesson with an effective entrance and billowing robes, then he proceeded with a pompous speech about how they were not going to do silly wand waving in potions, how stupid they all were to understand the subtle beauty of the art of potions making. During the speech he kept glaring menacingly at Gryffindors all the time... all in all Harry concluded that their professor was simply a drama queen and Harry decided he would play along. Severus didn't lie to Harry when he told him he expected him to excel in his class, for he wasn't going to let Lily's talents be lost in vain. Thankfully, Harry didn't disappoint him and gave him all the right witty answers and gained his house 30 points in the first hour of the class. Yes, Severus was very pleased. Who would have thought that having Harry Potter in his house would prove such an entertaining affair?

Harry and Draco dutifully slept through the whole double class of History of Magic. Harry found it hilarious that someone came up with an idea of having Binns of all the ghosts read the lectures. Harry would have preferred Nearly Headless Nick or even the Bloody Baron to Binns. Alas, he woke up rested and ready for lunch and double DADA with the mysterious professor Quirrell. At lunch Harry decided he was very lucky to be sorted into the den of snakes, for, apart from Crabbe and Goyle, all his other male classmates were very pleasant. Harry really liked both Blaise and Theo for being quiet and intelligent yet sharp tongued and funny. Draco was haughty and spoiled but he was also very well educated, witty and Harry knew that there was much more to Malfoy heir than he let to show. Harry didn't pay much attention to the girls and they didn't pay him any either. Ravens turned out to be very nosy and competitive amongst each other which Harry highly disapproved of. He preferred slytherin's unity where nobody cared who was the smartest one as long as he kept everybody else up to the standard. Gryffindors were too loud and too stupid and Harry thanked all the gods in the world for not being one of them. He wondered how Granger with her clear ravenclaw traits ended up with lions. She, probably, was very noble. Oh well, Harry knew nobility couldn't get you far in the real life. Hufflepuffs were neither fish nor flesh. No, Harry was very pleased with being a snake, although the worried glances the headmaster kept shooting him annoyed Harry to no end.

DADA class was a garlic-stinking joke, for nobody could listen to Quirrell's stammering for more than ten minutes. Nobody could take any notes or concentrate on the topic of the lesson so students decided to spend the class chatting away. Harry couldn't stop feeling that something was amiss with the professor and kept looking at him while professor kept looking back at Harry. And thus they have been spending their next defense lessons.

Harry excelled in all the classes, mostly because he payed attention and spent a lot of time completing his homework and always did additional research on the topic. Practical parts of the classes were also easy for Harry. He had a great imagination for transfiguration and a strong sense of self-discipline for charms. All teachers praised Harry and showered him with points. Even professor Snape. Well, Harry knew better than to sulk in this class, really. After a few weeks Severus told his first year snakes that Harry and Draco were to be the leaders of the study group and were to tutor their peers on their weak subjects and report straight to professor Snape himself. And so Harry settled into yet another routine of studying, helping his peers, studying some more, gaining points, charming teachers and reading up on the dark spells from Draco's secret illegal books.

**xxx**

It was the end of October when Harry realized he couldn't keep up with the Quirrell suspense anymore and decided to confront the man. DADA class began with Weasley's little tantrum. Ron decided to remind Harry that he was supposed to be the Savior, and kept glaring at him while repeating the same old speech all over again and again. Harry tuned him out, all he could hear was something along the lines of 'traitor', 'slimy snake', 'the next dark lord', 'evil git'. His antics amused Harry's classmates and they eagerly took it upon themselves to put 'Weasel' in his place. Harry dismissed the whole drama, there was nothing new for him. Professor Quirrell entered the room and broke the tension with his stammering.

"G-g-g-ood af-t-t-t-erno-oo-on c-c-class, t-t-t-o-d-d-d-ay we are g-g-..."

If Harry didn't know that Quirrell was a fraud he would have went straight to the headmaster and demanded a new teacher. But he knew that Quirrell was acting, and rather well indeed, but Harry knew something was off. Something about this professor made Harry shiver in anticipation. Well, and the man just couldn't keep his eyes off of Harry's face. Harry decided to break the horrible stammer for the sake of his own sanity and ask a question he was itching to ask for a very long time, but had no opportunity to talk about it with professor Snape. He hoped this question would catch Quirrell off guard or would simply ratify the man's incompetence.

"Excuse me, professor Quirrell, I have a question," he shot up his arm and looked at his teacher pointedly.

"Y-yes-s, M-mr P-p-pot-t-ter?"

"Sir, why do we learn defense against the dark arts?"

"Sorry?" Qurrell forgot to stammer and Harry inwardly cried in glee.

"What I mean is why do we learn defense against something we know nothing about? Why were the dark arts listed as prohibited practice when, obviously, it is still practiced if we have to learn to defend ourselves against it? Why ban the dark arts at all?" Harry spoke in a low voice loud enough for Quirrell to hear, while the other students were chatting between themselves clearly dismissing Quirrell and his lesson.

"Very good questions indeed," professor dropped the act seeing that nobody was listening in. Even his voice changed, gaining deeper feeling to it and hissing ever so slightly at 's'. "You see, Mr Potter, the ministry decided that the dark arts inevitably lead to a path of destruction and terror, due to the popularity of the unforgivable curses among dark wizards as many more other illegal old spells. Our curriculum is also created and approved by the ministry so you can see clearly the reason behind it: they are trying to cut down the amount of the practitioners of the dark and they are striving to raise generations of useless, weak witches and wizards, who wouldn't be able to join the dark or stand up against the ministry. Why ban the dark arts? Why, because the dark is so much more powerful and dangerous than the light, because the dark can offer the caster something the light cannot. But this is all lyrics. Do you know, Mr Potter, the real difference between the light and the dark?" Harry caught that red gleam in Quirrell's eyes again and shivered.

"Intent, sir."

"Ah, correct, Mr Potter, 10 points to Slytherin. Intent can make almost any spell lethal, and the ministry, being too blind to understand this, bans everything that screams 'blood' and 'murder' into their faces adding more fuel to the boiling cauldron of stereotypes of 'good vs evil', 'all the bad men are dark', 'everything darker than grey is evil and is designed to kill'. Could you give me an example of a spell that is not a dark one but can be used to kill?" the man flashed a feral smile at Harry. Harry didn't even flinch but flashed a smile of his own.

"Yes, sir. The levitation charm: you could easily levitate a person a few hundred meters up and drop the charm and let the person crash to death. Or you could throw a cheering charm with the right amount of hatred behind it and make a person choke in a laughing fit."

"Good, very good, Mr Potter," Quirrell's eyes began turning red ever so slightly, "And what about a dark curse, do you know any to use as an example?"

"The Killing Curse, sir," Harry was flashing a shit-eating grin at the man.

"The killing Curse, Mr Potter?"

"Yes. You can either murder somebody in cold blood or you could put a person out of a misery or agonizing pain, for the killing curse simply stops the heart. It is a rather merciful way of killing in my opinion," Harry knew he said just the right thing. Quirrell stared at him with wide eyes, with wide clearly red eyes. He stepped closer to Harry and murmured, looking him straight into the eyes.

"Would you care to join me for an evening tea this friday, Mr Potter?"

"I think I would, sir," Harry smiled at Quirrell charmingly. Inwardly he couldn't stop fidgeting, the man stood so close, Harry could practically feel his darkness leaking through the skin pores.

"Good," and with that professor moved to the teacher's desk again and returned to his act, trying to stammer over the noise, pretending to care for the class' attention. His eyes turned brown again.

"What the hell was that?" Draco breathed into Harry's ear, looking befuddled.

"Something very interesting," Harry smiled.

**xxx**

Friday was Halloween. Harry really didn't like this holiday, he could never appreciate the fun in dressing up and asking for sweets. After he read up on some old magic traditions, he realized why so many purebloods despised muggleborns for 'tainting' old traditions with 'filthy' muggle culture. It wasn't just for the holidays but for many little, seemingly insignificant, yet very powerful rituals and ceremonies. Harry wondered if his parents or at least his grandparents from his father's side used to follow those old traditions. Halloween feast was a loud but otherwise an uneventful affair. Quirrell sent Harry a note to come and visit him right after the dinner. Harry complied. He stood in front of the wooden door of the man's office when he heard a low "Enter". Harry opened the door and stepped inside. Quirrell sat at his desk in a comfortable armchair serving tea. He gestured for Harry to sit in the other armchair right in front of professor. Harry slowly approached him and sat down, eyeing the man warily.

"Why, Mr Potter, you so boldly provoked me in the class and now you are wary and nervous all of a sudden, hm?" blood red eyes met bright green ones.

"Well, I know you're a fraud, sir, you are not the person you pretend to be, so it's only natural to be careful."

"Why, yes, the same could be said about you, Mr Potter," the man smirked at him but Harry only smirked back. Quirrell narrowed his eyes at the boy and pushed a freshly filled cup of tea in his direction. Harry gently picked it up but didn't sip. He decided to talk instead.

"Who are you?"

"Straight to the point. You act like a filthy gryffindor, Mr Potter."

"I'm sorry if I insulted you, sir," Harry flashed him a brilliant smile clearly showing how sorry he was, "But I would really like to know and since this is the easiest way to find out, why not?"

"I've been watching you closely for these two months, Mr Potter, you seem to be a very intelligent child. Do you have any interesting theories to share?" Quirrell was openly mocking him, but Harry wasn't going to back down. He gave him a shit-eating grin.

"Why, yes, sir. You're Lord Voldemort!"

Quirrell choked on his tea and sputtered the liquid all over the place staring at Harry with wide eyes. Harry froze in disbelief and then burst into laughter. He shed a few tears of mirth and breathed out, "You must be joking, really? You really mean I guessed right? Merlin, who would have thought..." he burst into hiccups and giggles again. Quirrell looked flabbergasted. He kept staring at the boy and then the boy's words slowly sank in...

"You mean YOU GUESSED?" he couldn't believe it. This was the most embarrassing situation a dark lord could find himself in. He couldn't even muster the necessary amount of hatred for the child.

"Well it's my rotten luck, I think," Harry finally pulled himself together and was looking at Quirrell intently.

"And you're clearly not afraid of me, are you," the man hissed coldly. The sound of those hisses sent shivers down Harry's spine, "Maybe I should show you my real face..." the red eyes morphed back into the brown and suddenly the young man started whining, "No, please, my Lord, you are too weak, you shouldn't".

"Silence! Take it off, show me to the boy," crying and shaking Quirrel obeyed and turned his back to Harry, slowly taking the turban off of his head. Under the layers of cloth on the back of Quirrell's head was hidden a distorted male face with slits instead of a nose and two narrow red eyes that shone dangerously at Harry.

"So you live a life of a parasite now," Harry concluded. He felt a little disgusted but most of all he felt sorry for Voldemort, "I'm sorry you had to endure all this because of me."

"What?!" the ugly face contorted into a genuine shock.

"I said I am truly sorry for what happened to you. I don't know why had you targeted my family but I don't hate you for killing them. You were at war. If I were you I would have done the same," Harry looked openly at the Dark Lord, honesty shining in his eyes. Voldemort just stared at him in bewilderment.

"So you don't know why I tried to kill you?"

"No. I didn't know I was a wizard until this summer and only then I found out about what happened to my parents and me but nobody ever gave me any valuable reasons why the war started in the first place and why my parents fought you, why they were targeted... Damn, they are telling me I am the child of Light, their Savior, and all I can do is smile and nod and hide away my true nature," Harry huffed annoyed and sank deeper into the armchair.

"Are you telling me a child of Lily and James bloody Potter is a dark wizard?" Voldemort bit out, daring Harry to say this was a joke. But Harry only glared at him and nodded vehemently in agreement.

"Impossible!" the Dark Lord hissed.

"I know. I'm starting to think that maybe I am not a Potter at all. I've found this book with genealogy trees of the light families, and there are no dark wizards for almost ten generations back. I couldn't have inherited it through the Potters, and my mother was a muggleborn..." Harry trailed off not looking at Voldemort.

"You don't look like a Potter at all," the Dark Lord hissed slowly searching the boy's face.

"Figures," Harry huffed and rolled his eyes as Voldemort glared at him, Quirrell's hand itching for the wand. Harry wanted to say something back but saw a sudden flash of something akin to recognition or realization in Voldemort's eyes and he growled instead.

"What?"

"You insolent brat," the Dark Lord hissed menacingly, "If I wasn't so weak I would have crucioed you into insanity!" Harry grimaced at that but kept his mouth shut. "Now, brat, turn your head to the left and move closer to the light so that I could look at you," Harry raised his eyebrows at that but obeyed and did as he was told. Voldemort watched his face for a few minutes, trying to comprehend whose mimics exactly he saw in the boy's face. He certainly wasn't a Potter, but he was somebody whom Voldemort knew and this somebody could very well be a dark wizard, even one of his own death eaters.

"There is a paternal potion you can brew that will tell you the names of your biological parents," he finally hissed and looked away. Harry turned his head and looked at him thoughtfully.

"Thank you, I will brew it."

They sat in silence for some time. Harry was so tense before, but now his limbs seemed to relax and his darkness started floating around him, caressing his tired body. Voldemort perked up at that and made Quirrell shift closer. He inhaled deeply through his slit nostrils and closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the aroma or taste, Harry didn't know. The Dark Lord opened his eyes and frowned at Harry.

"You are extremely powerful for such a young age. Had they been training you before Hogwarts?"

"Training... what are you talking about? I've told you I never knew I was a wizard before I got the letter."

"Are you insulting my intellect?" Voldemort snarled at Harry, "Such power doesn't come on it's own accord, it must be developed and, in order to do so, one must know exactly what to do," he hissed and narrowed his eyes.

"No. And yes, I've been developing it since I was six but I never knew what I was doing. I mean I realized that I could make it stronger only much later when I was around nine."

"Tell me," Voldemort hissed impatiently.

"Can't. Curfew. And honestly I'm really tired, sorry, but this is all a bit overwhelming. Could we possibly talk later? I promise I will tell you everything," Harry didn't plan to tell him anything at first but somehow he felt that he should, that Voldemort was probably the only person (or spirit) in the world who could understand. The Dark Lord looked at him with a blank stare.

"Fine. I will find you when the time is right."

Harry nodded and went back to the dungeons. He couldn't sleep that night, he thought his head would explode. How in the name of Merlin could this happen? What were the chances of such a turn of events? One to a million? And why did Harry pull out the only lucky lottery ticket? Now he had the bloody Dark Lord on his back at the school and there was no turning back, he knew he couldn't escape. "Why me, why is it always me?"

**xxx**

December came. Harry and Quirrell both acted their usual selves and didn't interact in any way except sometimes in class. Harry calmed down and actually was looking forward to their next chat. Meanwhile, he decided to ask professor Snape to help him with the paternal potion.

"So, you think that James Potter is not your biological father?" Severus watched Harry intently. He himself was almost certain Harry wasn't a Potter at all but the mere possibility of Lily having a child from somebody else besides Potter and well... Severus himself, was so barbaric and terrible, the potions master hoped against hope that Harry would turn out to be a Potter.

"Yes and I want to know who is. It's not like I'm going to seek him out, I intend to do no such thing. I simply need to know whether my father is a dark wizard or not," Harry sighed and looked at the professor miserably.

"Fine, but the potion requires two months of brewing and some expensive ingredients."

"Just tell me how much it will cost, professor, I don't care for the price and I am ready to wait. I would love to make it myself, with your help, obviously. Sir."

"I will send you a note when I have all the ingredients ready. We would most likely start it on the Christmas holiday."

"Thank you, sir," Harry left the office and went to the library. He didn't want to think about Voldemort or his real father until he had to face them, so he decided to distract himself with his studies.

**xxx**

After all of his classmates left for the holidays Harry could finally practice with his wandless and wordless magic all alone in the dorm. After some research Harry found out that all those things he'd done while at the Dursleys and at the St Martin's, were, in fact, the hardest kind of magic, one that required no wand and no incantation but will and self-discipline. Harry decided to keep developing this skill and had been sweating over the simplest transfiguration for the past few days. It was going slow but he kept trying, determined to reach his goal. Professor Snape sent him a note that they would start brewing on the second of january.

On Christmas morning Harry woke up and found a small pile of presents at the foot of his bed. That was a new experience for him, he had never received a gift in his life. Harry felt sad and pleased at the same time - something he really didn't like to feel at all, due to the complexity of such emotion. Sighing he moved closer to the presents and opened the first one. Blaise sent him sweets, Theo sent him winter gloves (something he was forever grateful for), Draco sent him a book on dark hexes and jinxes. Really, for a Malfoy, Draco lacked all kind of subtlety when it came to Harry. Although he never hid his fascination with the dark from his roommates, Draco was the only one who felt rather vocal about it. Professor Snape gave him a book on complex protecting and healing potions. The next parcel was unsigned. Harry frowned and opened it - inside was a silverish cloak and a note, telling him that the cloak belonged to Harry's father and that he should use it well. Somehow, Harry felt it had something to do with the headmaster. Harry put the cloak on and gasped - it was an invisibility cloak! Well, being a Potter definitely had its own advantages.

When Harry was ready to remove everything from the bed and get rid of the wrapping paper, he saw another package, quite thick and heavy, lying innocently on the floor. Intrigued, Harry opened it, noticing that it also lacked any kind of signature, nor was there any note. The gift turned out to be a set of a few thin black books with no titles whatsoever. They only had numbers. Curious, Harry opened the book number one and saw letters T.M.R. in the left upper corner. On the next page was scrawled "This is not a gift". And because of this phrase Harry knew exactly who gave him these - Voldemort. Of course, the Dark Lord never sends christmas gifts, who would have thought! Harry laughed happily. It was strange but somehow Voldemort made him laugh more in two months than he laughed in the last two years. It was totally unhealthy. Harry turned the next page. It was a book about the origins of the dark and the light arts. Other volumes contained illegal and banned spells, rituals and curses. Harry could only gape at them. Why would the Dark Lord give him such a rare and expensive gift even if and especially if he gave him his own personal set?! Harry didn't doubt T.M.R. were the initials of his real name. Harry stared at the books in awe - he was going to learn from the same books the Dark Lord himself did.

**xxx**

All students and stuff, who remained at the castle during the holidays, were obliged to attend to the Christmas dinner in the Great Hall. Harry really didn't want to go but knew that professor Snape would bring him there by force, so he decided to make his life easier. There was only one big table in the center of the hall, served with all kinds of delicious christmas meals. At the table, Harry saw, were all the teachers and about 10 children from different houses and years. Weasley was also there as were his older twin-brothers. Harry didn't mind the twins, but Ron was really insufferable at times. Harry sighed and sat down next to some girls from ravenclaw as far from the redhead as possible. A few minutes later professor Quirrell came and sat next to him. Harry was wary again. The feast began without any speeches, the teachers simply began eating and chatting between themselves and with the students around them. Dumbledore decided to torture Harry and spent almost half an hour interrogating him on his studies and marks, as if he didn't know all this already. Harry dutifully answered all his questions with small shy smiles, keeping his head modestly bowed down. The headmaster smiled his grandfatherly smiles. He asked Harry if he received any presents, and Harry decided to use this opportunity and thanked him for his gift. The headmaster was surprised, at first, but then simply laughed and twinkled at Harry, clearly pleased. Harry shuddered and ducked his head, trying to look blushed.

When the headmaster switched his attention to somebody else, Harry turned to Quirrell and murmured softly, "Thank you for your gift as well, professor, it's priceless."

Quirrell only narrowed his eyes at Harry but didn't say anything. An hour later the feast was dismissed and Harry walked through the heavy oak doors of the hall, taking to the right to walk back to the dungeons, when he heard Quirrell calling him. He turned his head and saw the man gesturing for him to follow. They came to his office again and Harry knew they were going to have a talk again. He wasn't ready. Could he ever be ready for this?

They entered and Harry met the sight of the same armchairs and a tea set on the table. They both sat down, both silent. Quirrell concentrated on preparing the tea and Harry was trying to pull himself together and gather his wits. He reminded himself that he shouldn't antagonize the Dark Lord and should be more careful around him. After the tea was ready, Quirrell looked at Harry as if deciding whether he was ready to talk or not. Finally he winced and turned to sit with his back to the boy and began to take off his turban again. Harry couldn't take his eyes off of his head though he knew it wasn't very polite to stare. Voldemort's angry eyes were boring into Harry's, yet he was silent. When the turban was undone, Quirrell shifted to get into a more comfortable position and leaned with his back on the edge of table and let his body relax.

"I want to finish our last conversation," rasp hisses escaped Voldemorts slot of a mouth. Harry nodded and looked at him expectantly, "Now, you will tell me everything about your powers and yourself and I, in return, will tell you why I killed your parents."

"Deal. Should I start then?" Harry heard an affirmative growl in response and sighed, trying to decide where to start, "Well, I guess I should start from the beginning. That same night when you were trying to kill me, after you... disappeared, the headmaster took me to my mother's muggle relatives and left me on their porch in the middle of the night," Harry chuckled humorlessly and shook his head, "He never checked on me afterwards, never even knew that I ended up in the orphanage later. Well, anyway, I lived with muggles for the next 5 years. I slept in the cupboard under the stairs. I was a slave: I cooked, cleaned, washed, gardened. I was a toy for my cousin and his friends - they used to chase and beat me. And my uncle and aunt starved me when I did something wrong, and when I did something 'freakish', which turned out to be magic, my uncle used to punish me with a belt. Later, when I was six my accidental magic began to show and the beatings became harsher. I killed a dog on christmas, with just the power of my will. I couldn't walk for a week after that, most of my bones were broken. I think I have a strong ability for healing for I've healed myself with my magic for so many times I've not been to the hospital wing here even once. And had to go to a muggle hospital only once in my life when said dog bit me," Harry rolled his jumper sleeve up and showed Voldemort long ugly scars marring his forearm.

"After that I discovered I could enter my mind and hide there from the pain, and I found the darkness there, leaking through little cracks. I know now that every time I used magic or experienced strong emotions those cracks grew bigger. Anyway, after my uncle decided to put me into the asylum, I got yet another beating and was left to bleed in the yard for the night. That was when I set the house on fire with my magic and all the three of my relatives died, burnt down with the house."

"Do you feel remorse?" Voldemort asked, clearly curious. He was very pleased with the story so far. The boy was truly dark and brought up just the right way to grow up a strong and cruel fighter. Maybe he won't kill him after all, maybe he should take him under his wing and guide him and make him a death eater when the time comes. It would only be beneficial to have him as a servant. Yes, he would seriously consider this option. The boy was young, there was time to mould him.

"I never wanted to kill them, well, at least not when I was six. But I don't miss them and I am glad I don't have to live with them anymore," Harry sipped his tea and watched the Dark Lord.

"Continue," Voldemort hissed.

"Right. Well, after that I spent a week at the hospital being interrogated by the police but they never found me guilty. I was sent to the St Martin's orphanage where I've lived for the last four and a half years of my life. Honestly, it was much easier to live there. The only problem I had were the older boys who used to beat me and torture me, but by the age of nine I learnt I could control my darkness which was steadily growing. I killed another dog. I learnt to summon and levitate wordlessly and wandlessly. And I started breaking bones of my tormentors with my magic in the fights and, eventually, they left me alone. And I made their leader step out of the window and he broke his spine and would stay an invalid for the rest of his life. Now, though, I think it would have been more merciful to simply kill him... Yet I wanted him to suffer and feel weak," Harry trailed off captured in his own thoughts and recollections of the feelings.

"He deserved it. They all deserved it," Voldemort's hisses were barely audible but Harry caught a flicker of understanding and fury in those blood red eyes and concluded that the Dark Lord probably had a very difficult childhood as well. Well, no wonder he grew up to be such a sadist, if stories Draco told him were anything to judge by.

"Well, the rest you can imagine. I got my letter, found out I was a wizard. Dumbledore came to the orphanage, told me I was a celebrity and told me you tried to kill me but I survived and said he was going to place me with a wizarding family when the summer comes. Why couldn't he place me with wizards right from the start I would never understand," Harry shook his head. Voldemort was silent. He watched the boy considering if he should tell him the truth. However, there was no reason to hide it, if the old coot wanted to keep the brat ignorant, he would only gain the brat's trust and loyalty by telling him everything there wass to know.

"There was a prophecy made," he finally hissed and Harry perked up at that, looking at Voldemort curiously, "The prophecy said that a child would be born at the end of july, whose parents fought me for three times already, and that I would mark the child as my equal and said child would have a power I know not. One of my spies heard the prophecy being told. Although he heard only the first half of it, for he was discovered, that was enough for me to act upon. Your parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix - the light front that opposed me - and they did fight with me for three times. You are a child of the prophecy."

"I see," Harry stared at him in bewilderment, "But why didn't you try to find out the rest of the prophecy before killing me? What if the other part of it said that I would join you? I was too small to be able to do magic anyway, I didn't pose any threat."

"I don't have to make any excuses to you," Voldemort hissed, annoyed. He had 10 years to dwell on the bloody prophecy and on his own rush actions that night. He knew he should have retrieved the prophecy first, but who was he to admit a mistake? Never.

"Well, I know you probably regret it, I would have. I understand, though, you were at war. War can never be clean and sometimes you have to fall hard in order to rise high and win," Harry murmured thoughtfully. Voldemort watched him in anger and confusion. How could a child be so insightful? How could he tell the Dark Lord about his mistakes and then dismiss them? Harry Potter was an enigma.

"Could you tell me why the war started in the first place? What was your cause?"

"To get rid of that filthy scum of muggles," the Dark Lord spat, loath clear in his voice.

"All six milliard of them?" Harry asked incredulously. Voldemort glared at him, but Harry only raised an eyebrow at that.

"I think this is a discussion for the next time," the Dark Lord hissed angrily.

"Fine. But why are you here at Hogwarts then?"

"That is what I wanted to talk to you about," Voldemort said, still angry but composed, "There is something hidden on the third floor and I want you to retrieve it for me. I could do it myself but that would have been suspicious. It's guarded by traps but I am sure you would be able to pass all of them."

Harry stared at him. What, the Dark Lord had already given him a task? He was not even one of his minions, not a death eater, but a child! However, the thought of being given such a difficult task pleased Harry. He enjoyed challenges.

"I see. When should I do it?"

"By the end of the school year and when Dumbledore is not here," Voldemort watched Harry carefully. The brat agreed rather fast. Should he be wary of that?

"Alright," was all that Harry said. What else could he do?

**xxx**

On the second of january Harry joined professor Snape at his personal laboratory to brew the paternal potion. Professor explained that they would have to brew it now and it would have to simmer for two months with occasional adds and stirs, which professor would personally provide. After that Harry would have to add his own blood to the potion and drink it. Then, after the potion settled in his body, he would need to spare a few drops of his blood on the parchment and say the right incantation and he would see his parent's names. It all sounded rather easy. Harry hated to wait for so long, but on the other hand he spent ten years in the dark - two more months were nothing compared to that. They worked in a companionable silence and in a few hours the potion was ready. Severus put it away to simmer.

"Professor, may I ask you something?" Harry sat on a high stool next to the working table putting away the ingredients.

"Yes," Severus didn't look at him, keeping his eyes on another cauldron with his own potion.

"Could you tell me the reason the war started? What was the cause of the dark?" Severus looked up in surprise. Well, that was unexpected, although, on the other hand that was exactly what he should have expected. Damn.

"Well, that is a very difficult and dare I say ambiguous question. I suppose you are trying to establish the reason why your parents fought the Dark Lord and why said lord targeted them?"

"I know why they were targeted, I want to know about Voldemort's goals, what was he trying to accomplish."

Severus visibly flinched at the name and then straightened, his eyes wide in shock, "What do you mean you know why they were targeted? Do you know about the prophecy?"

"Yes," Harry said simply and gave Severus a blank look.

"Did the headmaster tell you?"

"No," at that Severus caught his breath. There was only a handful of people who knew of the prophecy and only he and headmaster could tell Harry about it, so how did he know?

"Do you know what does the prophecy say?"

"No," Harry lied. He didn't know the whole thing, he didn't think it wise to say anything. Yet professor's reaction was curious, "How do you know about it?"

"I...," Severus didn't know what should he tell, he couldn't possibly tell the truth, so he decided on a half-truth, "I knew your mother, we were friends."

"Oh, and here I thought you were Voldemort's spy," Harry noted innocently, reminding himself to interrogate Snape about his mother later.

To say that Severus was gobsmacked, was to say nothing at all. He stared at the wall before him and tried to comprehend how was that possible that he could lie to the Dark Lord and yet here sat 11 year old Harry Potter, who casually informed him that he knew he was a spy and Severus couldn't face him and prove him wrong.

"So you were a spy," Harry answered for him. He reached out and patted professor on the arm, "It's alright professor, I don't blame you."

"What are you... How do you know all this?" Severus lost his mask and was watching Harry with a lost expression on his face. He wasn't an idiot, if the headmaster never told Harry any of this then there was only one man who could, and that candidate made Severus chest constrict in apprehension.

"I don't think he would appreciate if I tell you, however, you seem to have worked it out already," Harry sighed and tagged on his long copper hair in exasperation.

"Yes," Severus whispered. Harry sighed again, got up and left. The potions master watched him leave not really registering what was going on. All his thoughts revolved around one Dark Lord who, apparently, came back from whatever gutter he'd been hiding in and, apparently, was here at Hogwarts, conversing in his spare time with Harry bloody Potter... The boy was unharmed. Which only meant that the Dark Lord had plans for the child. And he knew of Severus' treason. He never tolerated traitors. Severus was doomed. The potions master put his potions into stasis, left his laboratory and collapsed on the sofa in his quarters. How could the Dark Lord have entered Hogwarts, how could he have fooled Dumbledore, what was he now for that matter? Severus checked his mark, but it was still grey, which led him to a conclusion that his master must be still weak yet able to reside here, at Hogwarts, and communicate with Harry.

Severus rubbed his face with his sweating yet cold hands. He strengthened his occlumency shields and put his emotions to order. He slowly shifted through his memories of the last school term, looking for some signs, when it suddenly hit him. Quirrell. Of course. Everything fell right into the place. His stammer to cover voice changes, his garlic stinking turban to cover the smell of rotting flesh, his nervousness and wariness around others and his evident interest in the third floor corridor... Possession. How could he be so blind? The boy figured it out faster then an experienced spy! Severus growled in frustration. He knew that Harry spent halloween evening at Quirrell's, drinking tea - Draco told him, yet he never paid that any mind. And he saw with his own eyes how they left the christmas feast together, clearly going into DADA teacher's office, and again he didn't find it suspicious. When had Harry Potter ever drank tea with any other professor?

Severus growled again. So much for a spy. He stood up and started pacing in front of the fireplace. No, he shouldn't do anything, he should let it all be as it is. He wouldn't tell Dumbledore - if the old coot couldn't figure it out himself, then Severus wasn't going to help him. He was still angry at the headmaster for what happened to Harry. Let that old manipulator sort his shit out on his own. No, he wouldn't approach the Dark Lord and wouldn't show Quirrell that he knows his secret. No, no, he wouldn't do anything, let the Dark Lord steal the goddamn whatever it is that they should be guarding, he didn't care. But he would watch out for Harry, yes, he would watch the boy, it was his obligation, after all. He vowed to protect him. He would.

**xxx**

The rest of the holidays was uneventful. Harry practiced wandless magic, studied and read Voldemort's black books trying to learn them by heart. Most of the spells were very dark and too difficult for him yet, but he decided to simply memorize them for the future. The new term began and the school was once again full of happy carefree children. First few weeks into the term were quiet and peaceful. Harry and Draco kept tutoring their peers, kept gaining points. Professor Snape pretended that his and Harry's conversation never happened, which was fine with Harry. Quirrell ignored him and that was fine as well. However, the headmaster decided to make it his new hobby to bore his twinkling eyes into the back of Harry's head at the meals, making the boy nervous. Whatever did he want from him?

In the beginning of february something had finally happened. Harry and Theo were walking down the corridor together, they had a break before the Astronomy lesson and left dinner early to compare their charts in the tower, when their path was blocked by the three gryffindors. Weasley and his two friends, whose names Harry never knew and never planned to know, were standing in the corridor with their wands out. Theo raised his eyebrows and looked at Harry questionably. Harry could only shrug his shoulders in reply. Ron took a step forward and confronted them.

"You, slimy snakes, do you think you can get away with you crimes?"

For a moment Harry felt lost. What was he talking about? But then he remembered that the Weasley twins were brewing something in the dungeons, clearly preparing yet another prank of theirs in one of the empty classrooms. Snakes never outed them, so they kept coming and kept pranking the school. Obviously, this time they did something to their own house and now Ron's brilliant logic brought him to a conclusion that only slytherins could prank the lion's den. How could such a good chess player be so utterly dumb was beyond Harry.

"We didn't do anything, Weasley, but I know you're deaf to the words of truth, so try to hear the words of wisdom: if you don't want to spend a week in detention with professor Snape or Filch, you'd better put your wand away and let us pass. We are not going to fight you, we are capable of obeying the rules," Harry drawled.

Theo smirked at them but Harry knew that the boy had his wand already in his hand. However, Weasley didn't listen and raised his wand to send a hex. Harry decided he didn't want to get a detention because of the redhead and waved his hand at the three gryffindors - they all fell down, unconscious. Theo chuckled at that and patted Harry's shoulder.

"So much for not being the next Dark Lord, don't you think?" Harry only smiled at him.

"You go ahead, Theo, I will dump them in the third floor corridor and meet you in the tower."

Theo nodded and walked away, stepping over the bodies with an unkind smile on his face. Harry levitated the three boys and moved them up the stairs and down the corridor of the third floor. He released their bodies and they fell down will a loud thump. Harry shook his head and chuckled. When he turned to leave he heard some low noise behind one of the doors. Curiosity killed a cat, but Harry decided to discard that for the time being. He moved closer. Concentrating on the sound he frowned - was it a dog growling? He tried the door - it was locked. He opened the lock with 'alohomora' and slowly pulled the door. Was it his rotten luck or what? Inside the old classroom lay a huge three headed dog, and growled in it's sleep. Why was it always with the dogs, damn it? Harry sighed and gently closed the door, locking it again. Only a moment later his mind registered the trap door the dog lay on. So that was the first trap Voldemort told him about. Well, Harry new what was going to be his next research in the library.

**xxx**

One night Harry woke up with a start. He felt something pulling in the back of his mind. He probed his darkness but it only hummed in response. Something else was calling him, something in the castle. Harry stood up and moved to the door. But then stopped and cursed silently - it was long past curfew he couldn't simply walk the corridors of the school in his pajamas. He took out his invisibility cloak and put it on. He spent forty minutes walking through different corridors, halls, jumping the staircases and escaping Peeves. Finally the pulling stopped and he found himself in front of the old unused classroom with it's door ajar. Harry entered the room and, although it was seemingly empty, he had a feeling that he wasn't alone. He took off his cloak and moved further. There was an old dusty mirror at the end of the classroom.

He came closer and read the words carved in its' frame: "I show not your face but your heart's desire". Oh, a magic mirror. How come? Harry took a step closer and looked at his own reflection. At the farther corner of the classroom Dumbledore sighed in relief. He'd been waiting for Harry to find the mirror for so long, the boy was stubborn. He had to use a compulsion spell on him, which was also a hard thing to do - the boy's will was too strong. Headmaster had to cast it several times. Well, now all he had to do is to let Harry come here for a few more times to look at his parents - what else could the orphan desire but to have his family back? - and then he would put the mirror back behind the traps and Harry would be ready to face his test. The headmaster barely noticed when Harry put his cloak on and left.

Harry did come back a few more times in the next few weeks. One night he was standing in front of the mirror grinning at it, when the headmaster decided to announce himself. He canceled his disillusionment charm and stepped closer.

"Harry, my boy, I see you found the Mirror of Erised?" to Harry's credit he didn't even flinch. He knew somebody was watching him every time he'd come here. The fact that this somebody was Dumbledore only confirmed Harry's suspicions. He knew that somebody forced him onto the blasted mirror. And now he knew who and probably knew why.

"Hello, professor."

"I see that you've been spending a lot of time in here, Harry. I want to warn you, that this mirror drove some of the most intelligent men insane. You do realize, that it doesn't show the future, don't you?"

"Yes, professor, I know that. It only shows what I desire the most."

"And what do you see, my boy?" Dumbledore's grandfatherly sickeningly caring tone convinced Harry he guessed right.

"My parents, sir. I see my mum and dad, they are both smiling at me," he bowed his head down and sighed.

"Oh, child, I wish everything turned out differently," Albus whispered, inwardly very pleased. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed lightly in reassurance.

"Me too, professor," Harry said in a small voice and pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

"Well, Harry, I'm afraid I will have to move the mirror somewhere else. It doesn't do well to dwell on dreams that can never come true," he sighed dramatically and nudged Harry to the door, "Go to bed, Harry, you need some sleep. Don't try to find the mirror again, my boy."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded and fled. He couldn't believe he fooled Dumbledore so easily.

**xxx**

The next day professor Snape called Harry into his laboratory after the dinner. It was time to add a finishing touch to his paternal potion. Harry felt nervous all of a sudden. He wanted to know who his real father was, but now that he was going to find out, he wanted to run away. But he couldn't. He had to know. Harry inhaled sharply and took a small dagger from professor's hands and cut his finger. A few drops fell into the potion and Severus stirred it several times clockwise and several times counterclockwise. Then he poured some of it into a vial and pushed it into Harry's hands. Harry glanced at the professor with an uncertainty in his eyes, but the potions master nodded firmly, saying that there was no going back. Harry licked his dry lips nervously and downed the vial in one gulp. He sat down and looked at the professor.

"Wait for ten minutes and then bleed on the parchment. Do you remember the incantation?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to do it alone or do you want me to stay with you?"

"I would like to be alone, sir, but I will tell you the name afterwards, for I'm sure I wouldn't know his name."

"Alright," Severus nodded and left the laboratory, gently closing the door behind him. That was it. In a few minutes they would know. Severus massaged his temples, he could feel a migraine slowly growing on him. He sighed and sat down into his old winged armchair. He closed his eyes tiredly and let his stiff body relax a little.

Harry looked at the clock - ten minutes had passed. He was never a coward, he could do the bloody paternal test. He took the dagger and cut his palm and squeezed it so that the blood could drop faster. He then picked up his wand waved it over the parchment in a simple pattern and said 'parentes ostendunt'. The blood sank into the parchment and disappeared. Harry blinked at the empty paper. A moment later the first letters started to appear and Harry caught his breath. There, on the parchment, he could already see his mother's name: Lily Evans. And then, on the same line, a little further to the right, Harry saw the first letters form the name of his father.

Already the first letter told him it wasn't Potter. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and waited, barely breathing. A few minutes that seemed like hours later Harry opened his eyes and stared at the name. Well, he definitely didn't know that man, but his name rang some bells. Harry burnt the parchment and went out of the laboratory only to find professor Snape asleep in his armchair, with eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Harry decided not to disturb his troubled sleep. He summoned a parchment and a quill and wrote a note, telling professor that he went to the library.

It was fifteen minutes until curfew, but Harry convinced the librarian that he only needed a few minutes for his research. He needed newspaper archive. Reluctantly, she complied and left him to his own devices. The last name of his father told him that he was a pureblood so Harry decided to check the death eaters first. If he wasn't one of them, then he would have to ask Draco - the Malfoy heir knew every pureblood family in England. Harry found the papers from the 1981 and moved to the october-november issues. Murders, arrests, trials... He scanned the names on every page. Nothing. He kept shifting through the pages. And then a flicker of a moving photograph caught his eye.

It was a late november issue. Four death eaters attacked and tortured into insanity Alice and Frank Longbottom. Harry moved his gaze to the photographs of the four convicts in chains and dropped the paper. So much for the paternal potion. He should have just looked through the papers and he would have had his answer. It was like looking into a slightly distorted mirror. Although the photograph was black&white, Harry could see that his father's hair was copper just like his own, had the same texture. Harry looked into the man's face and saw his own nose, his own lips, his jaw and cheekbones, although his father's face was a little longer and thinner. All in all Harry was staring at himself in about 10-15 years.

"So it is Rabastan. I couldn't decide between the two, didn't really pay attention to the differences between them, although the Lestrange heritage was evident, when I looked closer at you."

Harry turned to the voice behind him. Quirrell stood a few steps away from him, the blood red eyes gleaming in the soft candle light. Harry swallowed hard and looked at the picture again.

"Rabastan Lestrange. He was one of my most faithful. How come he ended up being your father, I wonder," Quirrell tapped his lips with his index finger looking at Harry thoughtfully. Harry didn't know what to say.

**xxx**

Severus found Harry sitting at one of the tables in the farthest corner of the library, staring at the old looking newspaper. He stepped closer and cleared his throat to announce his presence. Harry looked up and Severus found that his eyes were blank. There was no emotion there, although the bright green orbs shone ominously, almost viciously in the dim light.

Severus warily sat down next to Harry and asked softly, "So, did the potion work?"

"Yes," was all he got in response and then the newspaper was pushed into his hands. Severus looked at the faces of his convicted death eater comrades for a few moments, not understanding what did it have to do with... He was looking at Rabastan Lestrange but he saw Harry, an adult Harry. Severus looked up at the boy, who was fascinated with the patterns of the wooden desk in front of him. He was a Lestrange and nobody recognized him.

Now that Severus thought about it, Rabastan really shared a lot of similar features with Lily and they both had copper hair... Harry had his mother's eyes which probably was the main reason why nobody, not even Severus himself, connected him with Rastaban. The Lestrange brothers both had vibrant blue eyes - a striking feature, one could hardly forget. Yes, it was Harry's rotten luck he was born with green eyes of his mother and a face of his insane father. Severus sighed and covered his face with his hands. How on earth did Rabastan and Lily ended up together? Lily was a member of the Order she would have never gave herself up willingly... Severus was missing something. Something big must have happened that two so completely different people like Lily and Rabastan, enemies for Merlin's sake, found themselves in such a precarious situation.

"Do you know how..." Harry looked up at his teacher but didn't finish his question. Severus shook his head and let his hands fall down into his lap.

"I have no idea. I'm sorry, Mr... I'm sorry, Harry."

"It's alright."

They sat in silence until the lights began to die - the library was closing for the night. Harry and Severus both stood up and left. Neither of them said anything.

**xxx**

It was mid april when Quirrell sent Harry a note to meet him on saturday for an afternoon tea at his office. Harry, who had already gotten over his first shock of his parental heritage, inwardly laughed in glee and anticipation. He was waiting to meet Voldemort. Firstly, he wanted to discuss his 'task' and, secondly, he wanted to ask the man if he knew how his father and mother were connected. Harry was sure that something must have had happened. Though, judging by his father's insane stare, Harry doubted that his parents had anything in common, in fact, however disturbing and sad it looked, Harry thought that probably his father forced himself on Lily, or was forced by somebody else. Harry sighed. No, he wouldn't dwell on that now.

On saturday afternoon Harry found himself back in the comfortable armchair in Quirrell's office. He was yet again looking at the back of his head, completely unfazed under Voldemort's hard glare.

"I called you here to discuss your task," he rasped. Harry nodded.

"May I ask a question of my own first? I would love to get this over with to be fully concentrated on my task later."

"You may," Voldemort hissed, but narrowed his eyes at the boy. The brat clearly had some scheme in his mind. Whatever he was plotting, he wouldn't fool the Dark Lord. Lestrange or not, he was disposable.

"Do you know how my parents met and what led to... ah... me?" Harry shifted in his seat impatiently. Voldemort frowned thoughtfully. He had no idea. However, he had a suspicion, a feeling of some sort.

"No. But I think he might have raped her. There was a time when my death eaters captured a dozen of light witches and spend some time with them, pleasing themselves in one way or another. She could have been one of them, for as far as I know half of them were left alive on purpose, so that they lived their lives in fear and shame and constant pain, reminding them of what happened," he hissed it out nonchalantly as if talking about weather, watching Harry's reaction. Harry simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I thought as much. I had a feeling that this should have been forced on Lily. Well, now that this is finished, let's talk about my task," Harry said, imitating the Dark Lord's tone. Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him once again. Brat's reaction was pleasing, he wasn't attached to any of that family nonsense, yet something wasn't right.

"Fine. Now, the object you must retrieve for me is the Philosopher's Stone. There are six traps and the seventh is the place where the stone is hidden. Unfortunately, I was unable to gather more information about this. All the traps were designed by your teachers and as far as I can tell, they were designed for children."

"So you think Dumbledore knew you would come for the stone and made all those traps so that I could also get inside and, ah, save the stone from you?"

"You're too smart for your own good," Voldemort growled, "Not that it helped your father to escape prison. Nevertheless, yes, this is exactly what I think. I don't know where the stone is hidden but I am certain it is hidden in such a way that only a 'pure child of the light' can get it, so I suggest you work on that part of your personality," he sneered at Harry.

"You've just paid me a compliment! No, two!" Harry blushed a little bit but swiftly pulled himself together under an insane glare and added, "I don't think I would need that."

"Oh, you don't think? Elaborate!" Voldemort snarled, his blood red eyes flickering menacingly.

"Well..." Harry reached into the inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a small bundle of cloth, "I've already retrieved it for you," he pulled the cloth and uncovered the small red stone, shinning brightly in the sun rays. Voldemort could only stare. He looked at the boy, who sat in front of him with that angelic face of his, seemingly serious, but his eyes were full of mirth and mischief.

"Explain," the Dark Lord bit out unable to compose himself. This was getting ridiculous. How many times would this child bring him into the state of shock? He should have found that full prophecy before trying to kill the brat...

"Well, it's all Dumbledore's doing, to be honest. He was planning to prepare me for these traps or whatever, I'm not really sure, anyway, he casted a compulsion spell on me some time ago to make me find that Mirror of Erised. And I did. I knew he was watching me, hidden, but I pretended to be ignorant. The first time I looked in the mirror I saw something that doesn't matter right now. The second time I came, though, I was engrossed in the problem of my parentage and I saw my father, who had no face then, standing next to my mother. Considering this, I decided to experiment on that and the next time I came, I was focused on my anger and pain and everything I endured and there were dead bodies of all those who wronged me in the reflection. The next time I came, I decided to concentrate on the task you gave me, I was wondering what would it show me. And so I stood there watching myself in the reflection. Nothing changed. I thought about how much I needed to get the object that you desire... I guess that was the trick, that I didn't desire the stone, I simply wanted to find it. My reflection suddenly smiled at me and reached into the pocket of my trousers and pulled out the stone and put it back inside and then I felt its' weight in my pocket. Dumbledore was in the room with me, so I discreetly brushed a hand against my pocket - the stone was there. Well, I was ecstatic and started grinning at my reflection. Dumbledore came out and started telling me about the mirror and asked what I saw. I figured he expected me to see my dead parents, for reunion with my family is something I, as an orphan, would desire dearly. And so I told him I saw them. He moved the mirror after that," by the end of his monologue Harry was flashing Voldemort a shit-eating grin of his clearly very pleased with himself.

As for the Dark Lord, he could only gape at the story. Luck. It was pure stupid luck. Harry ex-Potter Lestrange must have been dropped into the cauldron of Felix Felicis when he was born. This boy was beyond anything Voldemort had ever encountered in his life.

"Damn," was all that the Dark Lord said. Harry kept smiling at him.

**xxx**

Nobody knew why professor Quirrell suddenly disappeared in the beginning of may, though nobody truly cared. Harry continued with his studying routine ignorant to the headmaster's glances and smiles. The term ended in no time and to Harry's dismay Dumbledore called him into his office to tell him where he would be staying this summer. Harry had a dreadful premonition. He prayed inwardly he would be able to convince headmaster to leave him at the orphanage. Professor Snape said he would take Harry to the headmaster and would be there with him all the time. Harry couldn't be more grateful. He even played with the idea that he would love to live with the potions master but he knew that nobody would let him, 'the child of Light', to stay with a death eater no matter how much better professor Snape was, then the most light wizards that Harry met. With these thoughts Harry stepped onto the moving staircase.

When he entered the office, his first impulse was to turn around and leave and to never come back to Hogwarts again. There, on a sofa and a few mismatched chairs, sat the Weasley family, all seven of them. Harry felt professor Snape's hands on his shoulders, squeezing them too tightly for reassurance. Harry's head of house was just as terrified by the sight of the redheads. Harry felt like fainting. Why them of all people?

"Harry, my boy, come, come, I called you here to meet the Weasleys! They generously agreed to take you in for the summer," Albus beamed at him. Harry wondered if he had discovered the stone absence already. Probably not.

"Oh, Harry, it would be such an honor and such a pleasure to have you at the Borrow for the whole summer!" a short plump woman crooned at him, pulling his cheek, in what she thought was a sweet gesture. Oh well, he got stuck with an emotional hurricane of a woman. He recognized her voice from the howlers that Ron and the twins got once in a while. All his rotten luck.

"Mum, but he's a slytherin! He's evil!" Ron whined. Harry could have rolled his eyes at that but he needed everything there was to get out of this mess.

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" she shrieked, "His house doesn't mean anything! He is the Boy-Who-Lived! Just look at him! He's such a sweet little boy, and the best student in his year! You should learn from him, young man!"

No, no no, no, this was bad. They were his fans. This was even worse. Harry inwardly cursed and cleared his throat in the last attempt to save the sinking ship.

"I am truly touched by your generous offer, Mr and Mrs Weasley, but you have so many children, I am sure I would be a burden, and I wouldn't want that. I could easily return to the orphanage, I like it there."

But the Weasley parents looked appalled, "Oh, dear, nonsense! We would never ever leave you in that horrid place again!"

"You won't be any trouble to us, Harry, we're used to having many children at home and I'm sure the boys would love to have a new playmate," Mr Weasley added.

"Now, Harry, don't be so modest. I am sure this summer would be the best one in your whole life," Dumbledore chirped. Harry closed his eyes. Right now he only wished for Voldemort to get his body back and kill them all. Why wouldn't they leave him alone.

After introductions were made and all the details were discussed, the headmaster told Harry to go pack his things and be back in the office in fifteen minutes. Harry complied, despair clearly written on his face. His roommates all wished him to stay safe, patting him on his shoulders in genuine sympathy and Draco pushed a few illegal books of his into Harry's hands and told him not to go easy on the blood traitors. When Harry came back into the office, there was only Mr Weasley present, who took his trunk and ushered him to the fireplace. Harry glanced back at professor Snape. He got his encouraging nod and stepped into the fire.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, murder._

* * *

Harry's first Floo experience was... not embarrassing. Harry grew a little bit taller on Hogwarts food and he learnt to move gracefully, like a pureblood that he was (well half-blood to be precise). Harry didn't really care for the blood statuses but he knew that it could be vital in this society, so he kept up with the tendencies. He was much taller then most children of his age now, even taller then Ron. Oh well, not that it helped him to manage with his current situation. Harry smoothly strode out of the fireplace ducking his head just in time, and found himself in a small, shabby but cosy living room. Mrs Weasley pulled him into a bone crushing hug and it was all he could do to not let his darkness strike out and strangle the woman.

After she let him go he took a few steps back and, lifting his hands in a calming gesture, said, "I am sorry, Mrs Weasley, but I am not used to touches, hugs and everything else there is to physical contact. I'm afraid this is one of the orphanage upbringing effects," he smiled shyly at her and the others, inwardly cursing them into oblivion.

"Oh dear, I forgot, how stupid of me!" she smiled, embarrassed, "And it's Molly for you, dear, I've already told you."

"Alright, Harry," Mr Weasley picked up his trunk and moved to the staircase, "Follow me. I will show you your room and everything else."

They climbed the stairs and Harry noted that the house was really strange. It was magically enlarged so the inner structure looked like a crooked labyrinth. Harry shuddered. He really missed his plain old muggle orphanage. He was shown into a small room, painted in brown colors. There were a bed, a desk and a closet. He was glad he didn't have to share a room with any of the Weasleys. After short excursion, Mr Weasley brought Harry down into the kitchen for dinner. He was placed between Percy and Ginny, the latter was eyeing him all the time and blushing maddeningly. Oh joy, a fangirl.

Ron's eyes were following Harry's every move, especially when he started eating. Harry figured Ron was afraid that Harry would eat too much of their food. He inwardly sighed. He had offered the Weasleys some money to pay for his share and stay, but they rejected rather fiercely, which made Harry suspicious. They were poor, why reject the money willingly given to them? It was possible that Dumbledore was already paying them, and much more then Harry would, and with the Potter money, no doubt. He was the one who had his vault key, was he not? Harry decided he needed to get to the bottom of this and pay goblins a visit.

"Mr Weasley, Arthur," he smiled shyly at the beaming man, "I need to go to the Diagon Alley, I need to go to the bank and-"

"Oh you don't need to go to the bank, sweetheart, you won't be needing any money here until late august when we will go shopping for the school supplies!" Molly interrupted him.

He only smiled and continued, "I need to go to the bank and I need to buy myself an owl to keep in contact with my friends."

"But you can use our owl," Arthur noted.

"But I will be writing to Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, Flint... I don't think it would be such a good idea to use your only owl for such an amount of correspondence," though, truthfully, Harry hoped they would be simply scared of the names of notorious death eaters. And right he was.

"Oh, well, in that case, I suppose you really should buy yourself an owl," Arthur agreed, swallowing nervously at the mentioned names, "I could take you there tomorrow, I have some business at the Alley to attend as well. Alright then, we will leave early morning."

Molly was not pleased but couldn't say anything against that and Harry inwardly patted himself on the back.

After dinner Harry had to endure an hour and a half of socializing with the family, listening to different stories about the older Weasley sons, who didn't live at the Borrow anymore, and sharing some bits of his past, mostly about the orphanage. Finally, Molly ushered him to bed and Harry gladly complied. He locked the door and tiredly lay down onto the bed. It was summer and he couldn't use his wand anymore. He sadly put it away with his cloak and illegal books. Well, he still had his wandless magic and his darkness.

Harry entered his mind and smiled genuinely for the first time in the past few days. His mind was now completely black and Harry could already see blurry silhouettes of a meadow and trees around it. And above them Harry could see the stars, dim in the veil of the dark but sparkling. Harry lay down on the black grass and the darkness embraced him gently, caressing his now long and tangled hair. Harry hummed in response and fell asleep. When Arthur woke him at 6 in the morning, Harry felt well rested and ready to take on the redhead menace.

**xxx**

They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and Harry hastily pulled his hair to cover the scar. Thankfully, it was too early for the crowd and most customers payed him no mind. Arthur left him at the doors of the bank, saying he would be back in an hour and that Harry must wait for him in the foyer. Harry promised to wait and entered the bank. He approached one of the goblins at the counter and bowed. He had read up on the goblin etiquette to not make a fool of himself for his problems were of a delicate nature.

"May your gold flow and your silver shine, let my vaults bring you wealth and my blood bring you luck."

The goblin looked at him in surprise and hastily returned, "May your gold flow as well, sir. How can I help you?"

"My name is Harry Potter and I would like to meet the manager of my accounts, if it's possible," Harry was still a little wary of goblins but decided not to let it show and stood straight and tall. The goblin bowed his head and left. He returned a moment later with another older looking goblin, who gestured for Harry to follow. They entered a small cosy room with an office desk, a few plush chairs and a bookcase full of parchments.

Harry sat down and heard the goblin say, "Mr Potter, very nice to meet you. My name is Olaf and I am the manager of Potter accounts. How can I help you today?" he sat down as well and looked at Harry expectantly.

"May your gold flow, Olaf. I would like to know who else can use my vaults and take out my money."

"Oh, your magical guardian, Mr Potter, you should have known that."

"Well, I don't. I grew up in a muggle world and found out I am a wizard only a year ago. So, who is my magical guardian?"

"Albus Dumbledor, sir," Olaf looked clearly upset at the news.

"So he has an access to the vaults?"

"Only to your fund vault, the one you would be using until you become of age."

"Did he take any money from it?"

"He did, but it is imperative that you should be informed of such actions. Here, let me show you," Olaf turned to the parchments in the bookcase and took out one, opened it and showed it to Harry. There were several withdrawals over the years and a huge withdrawal, made at the last week. Oh well, there goes the payment for the generous Weasley family.

"Sir, if you wish, we could report that and we could sue Mr Dumbledore for the theft," Olaf added clearly angry at the headmaster.

"No I don't think that would be necessary," Harry said. He had been thinking about this during breakfast and decided, that he would like to find out more about the Lestranges, "Olaf, could you possibly call the Lestrange accounts manager here?" the goblin stared at him in bewilderment but nodded, nevertheless, and left. He came back followed by a tall menacingly looking goblin with slick white hair pushed back. He wore small glasses for reading that sat at the bottom of his long nose.

"How may I be of any service to you, Mr Potter?" he wasn't very friendly, Harry noted. No matter.

"May your gold flow and your silver shine," Harry bowed and added, "You see, sir, earlier this year I brewed a paternal potion and performed the ritual of revealing my true parentage and it turned out that my father is not James Potter but Rabastan Lestrange."

Both goblins stared at him in shock. The Lestrange's goblin suddenly took a step closer to Harry and peered intently into his face, taking in every detail. He then stepped back and concluded, "I would like to perform our own blood test. If you are a Lestrange, then all the frozen accounts would be redirected to you and you would be named the head of the house and a Lord, since both your father and uncle are to spend their lives in Azkaban. Please sit down, I would bring in the instruments."

Harry dutifully sat down. The goblin returned with a parchment and long needle in his hands. "This is the genealogy test, your blood will show your parents and a few ancestors, " he gave Harry the needle. Harry pricked his finger and let the blood drop onto the parchment. In a moment the parchment was covered with two trees, one Evans', the other - Lestranges'. The goblin looked surprised and... pleased? It was hard to tell, since any expression of his was rather horrifying. Harry decided he didn't want to know.

"Now, Mr... Lestrange there is one last test. I will take you to your family vault and you will put on the heir ring. If it accepts you, then your identity would be proved true and you would become Lord Lestrange and the head of the house."

"Let's do it," Harry said firmly. He was excited. All the titles, his own money, but most importantly his heritage. Draco told Harry that pureblood families usually kept all the precious heirlooms and many illegal items in their vaults. Harry was intrigued to find what was hidden in his father's vault. The scary goblin, whose name was Krohl, took Harry down deep into the underground. They traveled much deeper this time and stopped at a huge clearing, barely lit by a few torches. Harry could hear huge wings somewhere above him. And then he caught a glimpse of the source of the sound: a dragon. His vault was guarded by a dragon. Harry grinned to himself. This was getting better and better.

Krohl brought him to a huge black stone door with a Lestrange coat of arms carved on it. He told him to place his palm over a small bump on it, and Harry felt something tickle his skin - his blood was taken to unlock the door. It slowly moved to the side and Krohl stepped inside, telling Harry not to move. He brought out a small leather box from which he took the ring. It was made of silver and a black onyx stone. Harry felt its strong magical aura and involuntarily reached out to touch it. Krohl placed the ring on Harry's ring finger on his right hand. The ring felt heavy and too big, Harry frowned at it, feeling uncomfortable. But suddenly the ring shrank itself and sat tightly on his finger and he felt a small pull in the back of his mind. Harry smiled and looked up at Krohl.

The goblin bowed almost touching the ground with his long nose and said, "Welcome, Lord Lestrange, it is an honor and a great pleasure to provide my service to you and your noble family."

Harry bowed in response and stepped inside the vault. Well, he was rich. No, he was RICH. There was so much gold, and silver, and precious stones and jewelry, he could see mountains of parchments, old tapestries and stacks of paintings. There were dozens of huge trunks and chests. But all this didn't really interest Harry. He noticed a bookcase at the farthest corner of the vault filled with books that reeked of dark magic. He gently touched their spines and closed his eyes in pleasure. A wave of intoxicating darkness washed over him and his body swayed a little. He took a reluctant step back and sighed sadly. He couldn't take any of those books with him, it wasn't safe. He told Krohl to make a magical purse for him, the same one he made for the Potter vault. When they got back into the bank Harry told Olaf to freeze the Potters vault and leave the fund vault open, for Harry didn't want Dumbledore to get suspicious.

Krohl told him he would keep his true identity a secret and instructed Harry to send him a letter if he had any question or any problem whatsoever. He also showed Harry how to turn the ring's stone to make the whole ring invisible. Only his blood relatives could see through the glamour. Oh well, they both were in Azkaban. Harry thanked Krohl for his assistance and went to the foyer. He didn't have to wait long, Arthur came a few minutes later and they went to the owl shop. Harry chose a big masked owl whose feathers were copper at the back, gradually fading into white in the front and whose mask had a lovely pinkish shade to it. He named it Copper just for the gist of it.

**xxx**

Harry came back to the Borrow and the whole family crooned at his owl. Well, the smug look on her face told Harry that he chose just the right familiar. He took Copper to his room. Molly called from downstairs for lunch and Harry changed from his traveling robes into the everyday robes for meals. Draco really rubbed off on him with all those pureblood customs. On the other hand Harry felt that he should behave that way, since he was a Lord. He changed and went downstairs. All the Weasleys were wearing jeans, t-shirts, shortsleeves and snickers.

Ron shot him a look of disdain and growled, "Why do you keep wearing those pompous robes all the time? You can wear something more comfortable around here, where no slytherins can see you."

"Oh but, Ron, I am a slytherin and wherever I go I must present myself to my best ability. It is not a question of personal comfort - it is a question of appearance and self-worth. Besides, I feel very comfortable wearing all this," Harry smiled, mocking him. The redhead huffed and turned a nice shade of red. If Harry had to endure two moths of living with the Light family, he had every right to wear whatever he liked. Besides, little Ginny almost pissed herself every time he changed into a different robe. That was so pathetic, but Harry had to entertain himself somehow, hadn't he?

**xxx**

After two weeks spent at the Borrow Harry felt deadly bored. He completed all his homework to the twins' and Ron's horror and to Percy's pleasure. The twins made him fly and play quiddich every day. If it wasn't for the opportunity to make Ron lose all the time Harry wouldn't have complied to it. Then again there was nothing else for him to do. Harry finished Voldemort's black books and was itching to try something. But the Burrow was the last place to take on such a risk. Harry exchanged letters with Draco, Theo and Blaise, and even a few short but warm letters with Professor Snape. He was really really bored now. It was late evening when he found himself walking at the edge of the wards, pushing the stones around, thinking yet again of performing a dark ritual. His darkness craved for it. He read about the addiction in the first tome of the black books. Yes, the more he practiced the more his darkness took from him.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He just knew it, there were definitely some additions to the wards to monitor him and the dark magic. Thankfully, his books were harmless. Harry sat down on the grass and stared at the dark blue sky above him. The stars were bright and the air felt heavy. It was going to rain. Harry hummed to himself. Copper found him some time later and perched on his shoulder nipping on his hair affectionately. Harry smiled at her and stroke her soft feathers. But his thoughts were back on the black books again. Damn Voldemort for giving him such tempting literature... Harry perked up. Voldemort. Harry hadn't heard from him since he left with the stone. What had the Dark Lord been doing lately? Harry ran into the house and into his room and sat down to compose a letter. He didn't really hope to get a reply but something told Harry he should at least try.

**xxx**

Voldemort sat at the desk in his study at the Riddle Manor. He despised this house and its history but he couldn't use any of his other hideouts, for they needed blood to cross the wards and he was still residing in Quirrells slowly rotting body. He had been living here since he left Hogwarts with the stone. He completed his research and was now trying to create a ritual that would give him his body back. His desk was covered with books and parchments full of scribbled notes and calculations and different rune combinations. He was tired. Quirrell's body was becoming too weak, Quirrell himself rarely stayed conscious and the Dark Lord had to spend a lot of energy to simply make the body move and digest necessary nutritions. If he wouldn't come up with an efficient ritual soon - he would become a mere spirit once again and would need to find a new hosting body. He rubbed his blood red eyes and growled in exasperation.

He didn't hear the muffled taps at first. Only when they became persistent and the glass in the window began to slightly shake did Voldemort noticed the noise. He looked up from the parchments and saw a big copper masked owl tapping at his window. Confused, he waved Quirrell's wand and the window opened. The owl landed on his table gracefully and extended her leg to give him a letter. He looked at her in bewilderment. Was somebody trying to find Quirrell? The owl hooted impatiently and moved closer, jumping on one leg, still holding the letter out for him. Voldemort carefully reached out and took it. The owl nodded satisfied and moved to sit on the back of the chair at the other side of the desk. The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at that. She was waiting for a reply. He turned the envelope in his hands and saw a familiar handwriting: the envelope was marked "T.M.R." Voldemort inhaled sharply. Only Dumbledore knew his real name and therefore could put his initials on the letter. But Voldemort knew his handwriting and this one wasn't Dumbledore's. He tore the envelope open and took out the letter. The first line told him exactly who had written to the Dark Lord.

_Dear Voldemort, _

_I'm writing to you in the moment of despair and hopelessness. I am bored. But before you burn this letter let me explain._

_You see, good old Dumbledore decided that it is dangerous to keep me at the orphanage and promised to find a wizarding family to take me in for the summer. Well, I don't know how about you but when people say you were cruel I'd like to point out that Dumbledore beat you to it. He placed me with the Weasleys. Of all people! So now I am locked down in the crumbling house full of loud and nosy redheads and I can't get away from them. I am not allowed to go out, to go to the Diagon Alley. I've already did all there was to do, I've finished your black books (your initials were on the first page of each tome so I decided it would be better to put them on the envelope rather then your title or your 'name') and I'm eager to perform some magic or at least a ritual (at least some simple blood ritual - no, I'm not whining) but I am deprived of that as well. I can feel there is something in the wards that monitors the dark magic, so I can't perform anything besides simple wandless magic (and no, you can't send me a cursed or jinxed letter in return, it would simply burn at the contact with the wards - I've already experimented). Well, as you can see my situation could be described in a simple: FUBAR._

_Oh, I managed to visit the Gringotts the first day after the term and now I am officially a Lestrange, I came into my inheritance. Wear a ring and all that rot. But I am still a Potter to the ministry and school. _

_What have you been up to lately? Have you managed to gain your body back? _

_Regards and all that crud,_

_Harry ex-Potter Lestrange_

_P.S.: my owl's name is Copper (yes, I know) and she is a bitch so if you don't want to loose your fingers be gentle with her. _

Voldemort couldn't help it - he chuckled. Although it sounded more like a hiss, it was still full of mirth. The brat just had it coming. He could imagine the brat's face when he met the whole Weasley clan. My, my, the Dark Lord wasn't the only one who was suffering. And judging by the fact that the brat sent him a letter (him, of all people!) he came to a conclusion that the boy was slowly falling into addiction. That was to be expected. Yet the fact that he was locked behind such wards meant that soon little Lord Lestrange would grow frustrated and would throw a fit, presumably, a very dark one. Not that Voldemort really cared, but it would be a pity to lose the Boy-Who-Lived to the vultures of the light. He'd rather kill the brat himself. And yet the boy was useful. And despite being a half-blood, bore a very noble and ancient blood in his veins... His blood... Voldemort put the letter aside and decided to answer later, after he checked all his new calculations. The brat's boldness brought the Dark Lord the so long lost inspiration back.

**xxx**

Copper came back only three days later after the dinner. Harry was worried, but she came back unharmed and in a good mood. And with a letter. From the Dark Lord. Harry couldn't believe it. He laughed and shifted on his bed to a more comfortable position for reading. He spent the whole day listening to Ron's angry muttering. The redhead was clearly jealous of Harry, of his money, his clothes, his academic success and his fame, and as the time passed, his anger and jealousy only grew. Harry didn't know what to do with him, really. He never enjoyed being on the receiving end of such emotions for he could only reflect anger with anger, that was how he used to live before, he wasn't going to change. Though, luckily other, redheads didn't really bother him, for they were polite, even caring, yet very nosy and annoyingly loud, but Harry could live with that. His inability to perform any kind of advanced or dark magic frustrated him to no end. He felt trapped and it had only been the end of the month. How was he to deal with his addiction until September? Harry only shook his head and sighed. He wouldn't think about that. He had a letter to read.

_Brat,_

_Your letter was most informative and dare I say interesting. If you need a pen-pal to whine - use one of your school peers and leave me in peace. Although I can not help but gloat at your placement. Yes, I must agree with you, the old coot is cruel, to place you with that scum of blood traitors and muggle-lovers - one would think he should take better care of his Savior, but then again, you and I both know who you really are so shut it and suffer in silence. As for your addiction, all I can say is that you'd better not kill one of the weasels during one of your tantrums that are soon to come. If they have animals I suggest you get some blood on your hands and get rid of your frustration through physical torture._

_Speaking of blood - send me a vile of yours, I need it for my resurrection ritual._

_the Dark Lord_

_P.S.: the name is dull but surprisingly fitting. I like your owl, perhaps I should take it from you when the time comes - she is much smarter then you are and she doesn't whine._

Harry laughed happily at the letter, amused with Voldemort's arrogance. The Dark Lord himself was clearly bored if he could find the time to gloat at Harry's misfortune and compose a reply. And despite his mocking he cared for Harry's addiction problem, that was evident. Harry sighed: there weren't any animals at the Burrow except an owl and an old rat that belonged to Ron. He frowned at the not-so-subtle order to send his blood - how could his blood help resurrect Voldemort? Harry knew that blood magic was a very complex and dangerous practice and he didn't want to suffer the consequences should Voldemort's ritual fail. Harry decided to think about it tomorrow.

The next morning, feeling particularly frustrated and itching all over, Harry decided that he should find a solution for his uncomfortable situation with the addiction and attempted to manipulate Molly into helping him.

They were sitting at the table finishing their breakfast when Harry, smiling shyly, asked, "Molly, I feel like a sponger sitting here and doing nothing to help. May I at least accompany you to the market from time to time and help with groceries? You work so hard and so much for such a big household, I am sure you could use some help."

"Oh, Harry, dear, you are not a sponger! Although I can't help but appreciate your concern, if only my boys were that attentive," small red spots appeared on her cheeks and she beamed at Harry.

"I'm sure the boy is bored to sit at the Burrow every day, he would love the sight of the village," Arthur added and smiled at both Harry and Molly.

"Oh, alright, I guess it really wouldn't hurt for you to come and take a look at the village. I could honestly use some help," although Molly sounded defeated Harry saw there was pleasure in her eyes. Well, the first step was made. Molly told him she would take him to the village in an hour - she needed to buy something, Harry didn't listen what, he didn't care, he needed to get away. Finally an hour later they were walking down the road and Harry could already see the roofs of the small houses showing through the trees.

When they entered the village, Molly showed him where the market was, where was the apothecary and some other shops she found interesting. She told him she would go to the tailor and he promised to wait for her at the bookshop As soon as he entered the shop he darted for the back exit, hoping that the napping salesman didn't notice him. Outside, he found himself standing in a narrow shadowed alley covered with litter and old furniture. The place was ideal. Now, all that was left was a victim. Harry hurriedly walked towards the main road looking for a stray dog or a cat.

And there it was, a fat old cat, sitting next to a flower stand. Harry ducked into the shadows and called for the cat, willing for it come to him. It did. Harry grabbed it and ran back into the alley. He willed the cat to be silent and started strangling it. His darkness poured out of him and enveloped him into a cocoon. He kept pushing, feeling the pulse going slow under his fingers, the body jerking violently. The cat died too fast for Harry's liking. But he decided not to risk it for the first time and forced his darkness back inside. He returned into the shop just in time to see Molly coming for him from across the street. She waved at him and he ran towards her to join her for shopping at the market. Back at the Burrow, Harry collapsed on his bed in frustration. No, animals were no good. He needed a human being.

**xxx**

It was 5 in the morning, 31st of july and Harry was sitting at the desk, hunched over the parchment before him, contemplating his reply to Voldemort's order. He still couldn't decide whether he should send him the blood or not. Clearly, if the man asked for it, then he really needed it. He woke up with a start and the thought about his blood. He couldn't sleep after that and now he had to make a decision. He even stole one of Molly's old potion vials she's been saving for the later uses. He realized he wanted to help the Dark Lord, but still he wasn't that comfortable with sharing his blood. He thought about his father: would have he given Voldemort his blood? He probably would have. Harry stretched his stiff neck and rolled his tensed shoulders. Now, what was his rotten luck telling him: should he go with the flow and just send it? Harry glanced at Copper, who watched him contently through the bars of her cage. Should he?

Harry took out an unused quill and thrusted its sharp edge into the skin of his wrist. He made a deep cut and brought the vial closer to it. He watched his blood slowly flow, fascinated with the sight. The vial was soon full and he sealed it. He healed his wrist easily, then wrapped the vial carefully to prevent it from breaking and turned back to the parchment and his still unfinished reply.

When Harry came downstairs for breakfast he was met with cheerful congratulations and wishes of the best. He forgot it was his birthday. Oh well. Molly informed him they were to have a small party later in the evening with a cake and candles. And Ron informed him that his rat had ran away and that it was Harry's fault. Harry wasn't in the mood for a party but he figured it was expected of him to enjoy such things and he put on a mask of an excited child. He only hoped that Molly would overdo herself in cooking and would need to go to the market the next day.

**xxx**

Voldemort had already given up on the brat when he noticed Copper aiming for the window of his study. Finally. Took him almost a week. Voldemort stretched out his arm and Copper gracefully landed on it, shifting closer to his hand. He stroke her beautiful feathers and gave her an admiring look. She hooted softly in reply and gave him the parcel with a letter attached to it. Voldemort moved to sit and Copper perched on his shoulder hiding her head under the wing. The Dark Lord unwrapped the parcel and was pleased to find a vial filled with blood. Now, the brat was proving to be a good servant. He should probably mark him early, to bind him to himself before the boy got any ideas into his head. Voldemort nodded to himself in agreement with the thought and opened the letter.

_Your Snarky Darkness,_

_I salute you and send you my blood as you ordered. Since when are you ordering me, by the way? Or had I signed an invisible contract and became your servant not even knowing about it? Whatever. I know it took too long but I had to seriously consider this. I hope you got over it. _

_Animals don't work for me, as it turned out. I need a bigger prey. Say if I kill one human would it be enough for me to get through the month? All this is really frustrating._

_No, Copper would never choose you over me, I hate to be the one to tell you this but not everything in this world revolves around you and not everybody, and especially someone as smart and beautiful as Copper, is ready to fall down and kiss your feet (do they really have to do that? the death eaters I mean? sounds pathetic). _

_I am to go for the school supplies to the DA on 23d of august with the Weasleys, so if you need anything, you know the date._

_Anyway, good luck with your resurrection, and I'm not sending you my bones or my hair. Don't even ask/order._

_Regards and all that rot,_

_The Boy-Who-Wants-To-Kill-Everything-Living_

Oh, someone was really angry and frustrated. Voldemort smirked at the letter and decided that the next time he saw the brat, he would indulge him with a little lesson of respect towards his betters. Perhaps, if the ritual would be successful, he would even meet the brat at the Diagon Alley. Little Lord Lestrange was in need of a wise and efficient guidance.

Two days later Peter Pettigrew was crawling at the feet of his master still captured in another body. Voldemort had to find another wizard and mark him to be able to call for Peter through the dark mark. He saw Peter in his rat form at Hogwarts and since he needed a servant for his ritual to be completed, he decided to call the one who would be too frightened not to come. Apparently, Peter came not in fear but in triumph: he had been living with the Weasleys as their familiar and spent the last month living with Harry Potter who was reading illegal dark literature. His hopes for great reward were shattered when Voldemort informed him that he knew perfectly well where the brat was and that said brat was of no concern to him. Everything was ready and the Dark Lord began the ritual, shivering in anticipation and glee.

**xxx**

Two days after his birthday Molly decided to go to the market and a second-hand furniture shop sale. Harry, of course, offered his assistance. They parted at the bookstore as before and when Molly left, Harry entered and came to a halt. He needed a plan. He had a penknife in his pocket. If he wanted to kill a person he needed a secluded area and no witnesses and he needed to work fast. Well, he couldn't just go out into the street and take the first stranger he met. He needed to be subtle. Harry glanced around him - the shop was empty, and the salesman was once again sleeping at the counter. Harry watched the plump body sprayed over the desk in contemplation. Why the hell not?

Harry turned around and locked the door. He then walked closer to the man and took out the knife. It would not do to do it here. He levitated him into the back alley and landed his body into the pile of litter. The man woke up and stared at Harry with wide eyes but when he tried to scream no sound escaped his lips. Harry silenced him with his will and slowly moved closer, toying with the knife in his hand. The trapped look on the man's face and the dawning realization and horror in his eyes made Harry shudder with glee. His dark magic lashed out and reveled in anticipation. Harry let his frustration turn into anger and pain. The man coiled on the ground in silent screams of agony. Every bone in his body was being broken, one by one. With every crack Harry's body jerked involuntarily and a wave of pleasure rushed through his veins. Harry rolled his eyes in ecstasy and fell to his knees, overwhelmed. When the man stopped moving and barely breathed, Harry crawled to his side and drove the knife deep into the man's throat and moved it, creating a deep ugly cut. The sight of running blood brought Harry into the state of euphoria. He cackled and stood up, shaking. His darkness was pumping his heart. He felt alive. He looked himself over, barely registering that there was no blood on his robes (though he dressed in black just in case), and only his hands and knife were covered in it. He staggered into the shop and into the salesman's bathroom. There he washed his hands thoroughly and cleaned his knife putting it away into his pocket. Taking a few deep breaths, Harry carefully stepped back into the shop and slowly approached the closed door. He unlocked it and exited the shop. Whatever Molly kept saying, he couldn't concentrate on her words, he felt dazed, drugged, satisfied, sated and alive. He really needed to practice more.

The euphoric state hadn't left for quite some time and didn't go unnoticed in the household. Ron kept glaring at Harry suspiciously. He voiced his thoughts at the dinner one day, saying that Harry looked too happy and comfy for a slytherin and he probably killed someone to feel that way. Ron got a smack on the head for that from both twins and Harry had to snicker into his hand. The redhead could never be more right. Ginny, on the other hand, concluded that Harry' dreamy expressions were the result of her presence and she made it her job to cling to him all the time and pop-up beside him every time he left his room. Harry only hoped she would get over him eventually and openly ignored her. However, she was as dense as Ron, and Harry could only sigh and suffer in silence.

**xxx**

When a week had passed and Copper didn't return, Harry concluded that Voldemort decided to take her now to simply annoy Harry. Well, it worked just fine. Harry once again was bored but at least his hunger for the magic was partly sated. Arthur, noticing his bored sighs, let Harry into his shed filled with all kinds of muggle contraptions and tools, asking Harry for his help, since Harry grew up in the muggle world. Harry knew that keeping some of these objects was against the law but kept his mouth shut and gave Arthur some insight and shared some of the knowledge he had. It didn't help though, Harry was still bored and counted the days until their trip to Diagon Alley.

It was a few days later when Copper finally came back and brought a letter with her. Harry fussed over her but she ignored him and hooted at him to read the letter. Harry reluctantly obeyed. He noticed that the handwriting changed, became more spidery and more elegant.

_Brat,_

_Your cheeky attitude needs some serious improvement. I will not tolerate your disrespect, especially during one of your tantrums. If you are a Lord that you claim to be then you will have to learn to bear your pain in silence and keep your emotions in check. I shall give you a lesson on respect and submission next time we meet._

_As for your little problem: yes, killing a human should help you better, although you will crave for even more after that, so good luck in finding more victims at Hogwarts._

_I've regained my body back and had to spend some time adjusting to it and adjusting my magic. Your blood worked marvelously. Oh, and by the way, now that I have your blood in my system, no wards around you can keep me from coming and killing you. Ingenious, isn't it? _

_I will meet you at the alley on 23d. To give you the lesson._

_The Dark Lord_

Well, Harry really should have been more careful with his wording. Voldemort was clearly not amused and was probably going to torture him. Harry huffed at the thought. Honestly, he was so bored he would welcome any change. Harry read the letter once again. He would meet Harry at the alley... And he had no idea what the Dark Lord looked like! There were no photographs of him in the old newspapers and Harry couldn't really ask anybody, could he? Harry decided to look at that from another angle: that would be an adventure of a sort, wouldn't it? He was honestly intrigued to find out what the man looked like. And he would need to kill more while at Hogwarts - now that wasn't the good news. Harry considered the possibility of practicing more of a darker magic, it should help him to keep himself in check. He needed to find a place at Hogwarts, where nobody would see him and where the wards won't detect him. He needed to research that.

**xxx**

The next few days went by in a boring routine. Harry flew with the twins and Ron, even took part in some of the pranks, helped Molly and Arthur, ignored Ginny, mocked Ron and waited and waited for the trip to the alley.

On 23d Harry woke up earlier then necessary. His anticipation was so strong he couldn't get a proper rest. Not every day a 12 year old boy would meet the Dark Lord at the Diagon Alley of all places. The Weasleys were excited as well but mostly because it was going to be Ginny's first year at Hogwarts and everybody made a great deal out of that, particularly Ginny herself, telling Harry over and over again how happy she was that she would spend the whole year at Hogwarts with him. Harry inwardly gaged at that and prayed she was sorted anywhere but slytherin. Finally they flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. While Molly took Ginny to get the robes, Arthur took Harry and the other redheads to the apothecary. Harry was trying really hard to cover his scar but all for naught. He had to shake hands and endure pats on his shoulders for almost fifteen minutes when they were outside again. He never thought he would prefer muggles to wizards at some point.

When they entered Flourish & Blotts they met the sight of a huge line of people with books in their hands, shifting and jumping, trying to get a better look at the table at the farthest end of the shop. Nobody paid Harry any attention and he gratefully escaped the redheads and collected the books that he wanted. It wasn't until he came to the defense section, that Harry noticed a ridiculous amount of strange books on his list all under the same author. Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry turned around and realized that all the people in the line held the same books in their hands, the ones written by Lockhart. So, they got a celebrity for a DADA teacher this year. Joy. Harry reluctantly collected the listed books, adding some of the ones he found more useful and started in the direction of the counter, trying not to drop his huge pile. It was his rotten luck again, that Lockhart of all people recognized him.

"Ah, Mr Harry Potter! Buying my books, I see! Come, come, dear, let's take a picture together!" the blonde blue-eyed man tagged Harry closer to himself, smiling brilliantly at the crowd, flashing his perfect white teeth. Harry couldn't decide what was he going to lose his sight to: reporter's flash or Lockhart's teeth. He stood helplessly next to the man, clutching his books and praying for the lightning to burn the bookshop down. Lockhart pulled him onto a hug and dramatically addressed the crowd.

"I would never make a Savior pay for my books, for they are nothing comparing to what great service he had done to our wonderful community. Please, Mr Potter, you can have my books for free! Let me sign them for you!"

"That won't be necessary, sir, I appreciate your generosity," and with that Harry jumped away and dived into the crowd of crying and drooling customers. He squeezed himself back to the counter, hastily paid and asked the clerk to shrink his books for him. He dearly needed to get out of the shop.

"Can never make it quietly, Harry, always in the spotlight," a familiar voice drawled on his right and Harry smiled a little, visibly relaxing. Draco. Just the person he needed. He turned to the blonde and smiled broadly.

"Draco! I need your help, you must save me from all this madness," Harry gestured at the crowd behind him and at the sight of the Weasleys trying to get their own copies signed, Molly shrieking and elbowing her way to Lockhart. Draco grimaced sympathetically.

"If you're done here we could go to Fortesque's for an ice-cream, you look like you could use one."

"That would be brilliant. Let me just warn the weasels and we are good to go," Harry turned and waved to Arthur, when another voice behind him called for his attention.

"Ah, Mr Potter, a pleasure to finally meet you. Draco's been telling me all about you," a tall man with long blond hair gently shook Harry's hand. His cold grey eyes were looking into Harry's face intently and the flash of recognition in those eyes told Harry the man knew of his parentage.

"Mr Malfoy, the pleasure is all mine, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. If it wasn't for the circumstances of my placement-"

"Lucius," Arthur greeted from behind, wariness and anger in his voice, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Arthur," Malfoy nodded ever so slightly and narrowed his eyes at the redhead, "Second-hand shopping for yet another scion of yours, I presume?" he looked at Ginny and Molly who came up to Harry as well, eyeing their clothes and tattered books in disdain. He grabbed some of Ginny's textbooks from her cauldron and waved them in front of Arthur's nose, "Perhaps you should find a better job, Arthur, to be able to provide for your children," he hissed acidly and dropped the books back into their place.

Only Harry noticed that one more book was added to the pile. He discreetly shifted closer to Ginny, and just when Arthur hit Lucius in the face and everybody's attention turned to the fighting scene, Harry summoned the book with his magic and hid it in the pocket of his robes. Whatever Malfoy planted into the Weasley's household, Harry wanted to examine it first. If it was dark, which it most likely was, he would have it to himself for his personal uses. At that Harry decided to break the tension and carefully approached Arthur.

"Arthur, please, Mr Malfoy and Draco only wanted to invite me for an ice-cream at Fortesque's. May I join them for a while?" he battered his eyelashes at the redhead, looking innocent for all the world. Arthur, still being held back by the twins and fuming, looked at Harry in disbelief, "Draco is my friend, Arthur, I'd really love to spend some time with him, if it's possible."

Lucius was standing at the door, with his bleeding nose still covered by a handkerchief, watching the scene curiously.

"Alright, I suppose you really miss your friend," Arthur sighed and straightened himself. Molly opened her mouth to object but Harry cut her off.

"Thank you, Arthur! It means so much to me! Where should I meet you later?"

"We would wait for you at the Leaky Cauldron, you have an hour and a half," at that he turned around and strode deep into the shop. Molly, completely lost, could only gape at Harry unable to say anything. Ron made a face at both Harry and Draco and left, clearly annoyed and angry that Harry wasn't on his father's side. Harry only shrugged his shoulders and turned to the Malfoys, smiling at the two.

"Should we?" he opened the door and let Lucius out first and held the door for Draco as well. When they stopped a few feet away from the shop, Lucius shifted his handkerchief from his face and said, "Well, Mr Potter, you are truly a very intriguing personage."

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, I am flattered," Harry smiled at him shyly and then reached out tentatively with his right hand, "May I?" he gestured at the man's bleeding nose. Lucius stared at him in bewilderment and Draco snickered at the sight. He knew what Harry was going to do. Harry hovered his palm over blonde's nose not touching it and concentrated a little. When he put his hand away, the nose was healed and the bleeding stopped. Lucius touched his nose carefully and then shot Harry a surprised glance.

"I believe I owe you more then just an ice-cream, Mr Potter," his eyes took on a calculating look and he stretched his lips in a small but not unkind smile. They then proceeded with their walk and soon were seated at the Fortesque's at one of the tables outside the cafe.

Draco and Harry had their tall glasses filled with all kinds of possible flavours, while Lucius simply drank coffee. Harry let Draco to involve him into a short chatter about everything and nothing in particular. They've discussed Lockhart and agreed that this year's defense was going to be yet another disappointment. Lucius added his own negative opinion on the matter but other then that stayed silent, letting the boys have their talk. When Draco decided to have an extra portion, Harry stayed behind along with Lucius who was watching him intently. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes.

"You do recognize my face, don't you Mr Malfoy?"

"I have to admit it is quite... a shock," Lucius replied still watching him.

"Well, to put your doubts and suspicions at rest: yes, Rabastan Lestrange is my father, and I am now the head of the house."

"Rabastan? I see, it's hard to tell between the two of them, really," Lucius quirked the corners of his mouth, "Ah, so you are Lord Lestrange now. What a truly unexpected and dare I say, exciting turn of events? When Draco told me you were dark I didn't really believe him, thinking your interest in dark magic to be just a little game of yours, but now... Well, your heritage changes everything. I must say, Mr Potter, I am most pleased with the change," his smile was more evident now and had a sinister sincerity to it.

"I am pleased as well. Although having to hide my true nature behind this 'child of the Light' façade is really tiresome," Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Does anybody know? Dumbledore?"

"The goblins know but they agreed to keep up with the Potter charade. Professor Snape knows, of course, since we brewed a paternal potion together. The headmaster is oblivious, although for how long is a good question. I also have a... friend outside the school who knows, I am to meet him here today, but other then that, no, nobody else knows."

"I am flattered to be the one of those whom you trust with such a delicate information, Mr... Lestrange," Lucius all but purred.

"Oh well, I hate to admit, but Draco grew on me, you know, I really like your son and can even call him a friend, so yes, I trust you. Besides, you and my father were involved together, so there is literally nothing I have to keep from you," Harry smirked at the blonde. Draco returned with another glass full of ice-cream and started a new conversation when suddenly Copper landed on their table with a note in her claws. Harry stared at her.

"Copper? What are you doing here, girl?" she hooted at him happily and jumped closer and dropped the note. A realization dawned on Harry - who else would Copper listen to? Voldemort. Of course. He picked up the note.

_Meet me at the entrance to Knockturne alley_.

Copper jumped on his shoulder and Harry stood up and apologized to the Malfoys, "I apologize, Mr Malfoy, Draco, but I have an urgent business to attend to. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Malfoy," he shook the man's hand, "And, Draco, I will see you on the train."

**xxx**

Harry all but ran to the narrow dark opening between the buildings. There, at the entrance, a very tall, heavily cloaked man was waiting for him. His face was hidden in a shadow of his hood. Harry carefully approached him and got a nod in return. The man turned and swiftly strode deep into the dark alley. Harry followed. They entered a small shabby inn and proceeded upstairs without a word to the man at the counter. After a flight of stairs, a hall and a door, Harry found himself in a small bare room with a table and a few tattered armchairs. The cloaked man waved his long white wand to ward the room and when he finished, satisfied, he turned to Harry. Copper, who was balancing on his shoulder during the whole way, flew up and perched on the back of an armchair, hooting softly at the tall figure.

"Voldemort," Harry greeted warily.

"Brat," came the hiss from the man and a pair of long pale hands with bony fingers lifted up and pushed the hood back. In a second Harry was looking at Lord Voldemort who looked... ridiculously human. He had a very handsome pale face with high cheekbones, long and thin, slightly crooked nose, full red lips and a strong masculine jaw. His wavy dark hair had a soft brown hue to it and was cut short, reaching to his jaw, pushed back and kept tucked behind the years. Only blood red eyes gleaming dangerously were any indication of the man's true identity. Well, that and his intoxicating darkness that was slowly enveloping Harry into a cocoon, constricting his chest. Harry could barely breathe.

The air around him became thick and had an oily feeling to it, Harry could literally touch it. Despite the fact that Harry had to struggle for his every breath, he felt thrilled and ecstatic at the contact with such an overwhelming power. Voldemort's darkness reached out and caressed Harry's cheeks and then squeezed his neck hard and started strangling him ever so slightly. The Dark Lord watched Harry's face intently taking in every little detail: the glazing over his burning bright green eyes, small short intakes of air through a slightly parted lips, little red spots on his cheekbones... The boy wasn't frightened, in fact, he enjoyed it. Harry's darkness reached out and touched Voldemort, gently stroking his own darkness in response. No, the brat couldn't be intimidated. Well, the Dark Lord was itching to torture somebody for a very long time, let his little servant help him with that. He released Harry, and the boy slumped down on the floor, panting. Voldemort moved to sit in the armchair facing the boy.

"As I have informed you in the letter, I am here to give you a lesson on respect towards your betters, towards your master. You are not marked yet, true, but not for long. You are soon to become my servant, my property, my warrior," Voldemort drawled and looked at his fingernails with a feign interest, "As such, you must learn the proper way of addressing me and acting around me. I forgive you your ignorance due to your tender age but as I have also said in the letter, I would not tolerate your arrogance and boldness and disrespect when you can't simply pull yourself together. There are years of suffering through addiction before you, and I would not take any improper behavior from you in the future, is that clear?"

"Yes, "Harry breathed out and looked up at the Dark Lord, mentally preparing himself for a lot of pain.

"Good. Now, first, you are to address me 'My Lord' only. Crucio!"

And pain it was. His whole body burnt with fever. It felt like millions of small sharp knifes and needles were plunging themselves into his skin deep, to the very bones. His limbs were moving involuntarily, trying to ease the hurting but to no avail. The amount of pain was maddening and Harry lost count of time, it seemed he spent hours writhing on the floor, convulsing violently. He couldn't scream though, for it was still very hard to breathe, he could only hiss. The hurting stopped abruptly and the wave of dull pain washed over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and caught his breath.

"You spent only 5 seconds under the curse. Imagine it to be 30 seconds? A minute? An hour?" Voldemort spoke softly, soothingly, watching Harry with pleased eyes, "Did you enjoy your first real torture, little one?"

"Yes, my lord," Harry whispered. As soon as the pain started to die out his darkness enveloped his body into a blissful numbness and he finally was able to breathe properly.

"Good. Second, you are to fall on your knees and kiss the hem of my robes every time you meet me. If we are in public, you are to bow politely. Crucio!"

And again. Harry's chest rose and his back arched up at the force of hurt. He clenched his teeth tightly. He wasn't going to scream. He retreated into his mind and watched impassively as his body thrashed on the floor. It was 10 seconds when the curse was lifted.

"Ah-ah-ah, little one, you are not to hide behind those mental shields of yours. Legilimens!"

Harry could clearly feel a sharp pain in his mind, struggling to get inside his darkness. He felt angry. He stood tall and held tight. He wasn't going to give up his sanctuary to the Dark Lord, it was his and his alone. He gathered his strength and will and pushed the intruding force out.

Voldemort looked stunned. Now, that was something new. The brat managed to shock him once again. Bloody Lestrange. He hissed menacingly, "The only reason why I am not cursing you into insanity right now for defying me, is that you've managed to impress me with your occlumency skills. You can stand up."

Harry would have loved to oblige only he couldn't. He turned his head to Voldemort and shot him a pained look.

"I can't. My lord," the lord in question only smirked at him. Harry sighed. So much for an exciting meeting. He heard Voldemort sigh tiredly and shift in his place.

"Well, I believe you have to go back to the weasels soon, so I will have to show you mercy and heal you before you go. It wouldn't do to let them see you in such a state," he said nonchalantly. He then raised his wand and produced a long complicated latin incantation and Harry's limbs relaxed and adrenaline shot through his blood. A few minutes later he was able to sit up. He gradually pulled himself up on his feet and leaned on the table beside him.

"Thank you, my lord."

"The more you say it, the more naturally it sounds, doesn't it?" Voldemort smirked at him and lifted his hand to stroke Copper. She nipped him on his fingers playfully and flew over to Harry and settled on his shoulder again, "Ah, I believe it is time for you to leave, little one. Send Copper when you are at Hogwarts, I might find a task for you," he pulled the hood on, hiding his face and stood up. The door swung open and he strode out, melting into the thick shadows in the hall and vanishing out of sight. Harry stared at the empty chair in bewilderment. For the first time in many years his mind was blank. He didn't know what to think.

**xxx**

Harry met the Weasleys at the Leaky Cauldron and tried very hard to look excited and happy, when in reality he felt exhausted and worn and still ached all over. He should brew himself a stack of healing and pain killing potions when he was back at school he mused. It wouldn't do to meet with the Dark Lord unprepared.

They returned to the Burrow and Harry discreetly escaped to his room. He took out his shrunk books, tapped them with his wand and threw them into the trunk. He then dropped himself on his bed still fully dressed and immediately fell asleep.

**xxx**

The last week at the Weasleys couldn't last longer. Minutes seemed to crawl slower then a snail. Harry was desperate. Not only he wanted to get to Hogwarts as soon as possible to do something, but his addiction also manifested itself yet again. He had a nagging suspicion that it was Voldemort's doing. He got exposed to such a huge amount of dark magic, surely, his own now craved to repeat the experience. The redheads irritated him to no end. He knew it was his darkness but he didn't really try to hide his feelings, he was really tired of that. So the last four days Harry spent locked in his room, in his bed, reading up his textbooks in advance. There was no other way to pass the time.

Harry barely slept the night before their departure to Hogwarts. He never felt so impatient before in his life. He needed to keep his emotions in check, the Dark Lord was right. Yet another research on his list then: master occlumency and perhaps legilimency as well. He paced his small room, fully dressed, waiting for the Weasleys to get up. Of course, he was fully packed, his trunk ready, his wand in his sleeve, Copper on her way to Hogwarts. The redheads weren't. While Harry was trying to push some food into his protesting stomach, the Weasleys were shouting and running around the house, hastily trying to pack their trunks to the hurting sound of Molly's shrieks. It was a pandemonium.

An hour later the redheads encountered yet another ordeal: they desperately tried to push all the trunks into the boot of an enchanted muggle car. While Molly was screaming at her children, Harry quietly asked Arthur to shrink his trunk, and then hid it in his robes. One more hour later they were finally packed inside the car and were driving through the center of London. Harry sat next to the door, his head pushed against the glass, and was wondering if the Weasleys were stupid or he didn't know something about the wizarding world. There was a floo system at the King's Cross, at the wizarding platform. Why the hell did they have to go by the car? He decided he would break his brain before he found the answer. Ginny, who was squeezed into his shoulder, was tentatively touching his hand from time to time, watching him from underneath her eyelashes. Harry felt sick.

They barely managed to arrive in time. Harry hastily thanked Arthur and Molly for their hospitality and bid them goodbyes, and ran through the barrier not paying attention to their responses. He jumped on the train and finally let out a breath and relaxed. Finally. He let his racing heart calm down a little bit, and strode ahead, peering through the compartments' doors, looking for his snakes. Draco beat him to it, coming out and calling for him. Harry happily ran into his direction and soon was comfortably seated between Draco and Blaise. It was an illusion of freedom but freedom nonetheless.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence._

* * *

The second year students were standing at the carriages when Harry saw them. Thestrals. He read up on them in the library the previous year, curious of what his wand was made of. Harry carefully approached one of the winged horses and gently touched it, stroking its' smooth skin, feeling its' bones under his fingers. Draco looked at him in bewilderment, silently asking why the hell was he stroking the thin air. Harry only smiled at him and stroke the horse's skull-like head. It sniffed him and leaned into his touch. Harry decided he wanted to fly a thestral one day. He patted it for one last time and got into the carriage. He wondered if there were more magical creatures who were visible only to those who witnessed death. Perhaps, there were some that were visible only to murderers?

**xxx**

The Great Hall was as loud and cheerful as ever. Thankfully, most students got over the Boy-Who-Lived thing and now nobody spared him even a glance except for Ron and Dumbledore, of course. Ron was fuming, probably offended by the way Harry left, and the headmaster was twinkling maddeningly at Harry, probably expecting him to start acting like an honorary Weasley should. Harry shuddered and hid himself from the headmaster's eyes behind the huge form of Goyle. The more Harry thought about it, the more he feared that Dumbledore would actually try and send him to the Weasleys again. Harry decided he would fight tooth and nail but he would find a way to outsmart the headmaster in this and gain his rightful freedom. The sorting was quick. Ginny, fortunately, was sorted into Gryffindor and Harry even clapped. After dinner he sat in the common room waiting for professor Snape to finish his classic welcoming speech for the first years. When the man was done and left, Harry followed him and stopped him in the corridor.

"Professor, it is good to see you."

"Mr Potter, it is good to see you in one piece and in sane mind after the Burrow experience," Severus smirked at the boy.

"Yes, thank you very much," Harry laughed. He missed his potions teacher dearly, "But I have important news for you. I won't tell anything out loud, I wrote it all on paper. Be careful," he pushed a piece of parchment into Severus' hands and walked back into the common room.

Severus raised an eyebrow at that. He walked into his office and seated himself behind the desk. Unfolding the note he read:

_Your Master gained his body back and his power as well. I don't know when would he call for you but beware. We never talked about you so I don't know what are his plans regarding you. Take care._

With slightly shaking hands Severus burnt the parchment and began massaging his temples. His mark had been darkening lately but, apparently, the Dark Lord was keeping his powers in check, not letting anyone know about his condition. Severus didn't know what to think. The thought of being called scared him - there was no escape for the traitors. The thought of Harry being the only person who actually saw the newly reborn Dark Lord disturbed him greatly. How did he manage to meet him if he was locked up at the Burrow? The only possibility was a Diagon Alley. Severus wondered if his master looked like a snake-man that he was in the war. Perhaps he should ask Harry for details. Should he tell Dumbledore? No, he had no evidence and wanted to live a little longer. He would wait and see.

**xxx**

The first week into the term was uneventful but pleasant for Harry. He slept in his bed in his dorm and felt finally at home. He didn't find any informative books on occlumency and legilimency at the library, but he hadn't checked the restricted section yet. With his invisibility cloak it wasn't a problem. Harry sent Copper to Voldemort as the man asked and was looking forward to get a task. Meanwhile, the studying routine had settled once again. Harry dreaded the first DADA lesson, he knew it deep in his gut that Lockhart would make his life a living hell. Harry almost missed stammering Quirrell. Almost.

Gryffindors, loud as ever, filled the DADA classroom first, and snakes followed behind. The sight of a dozen smiling and winking portraits of the blasted blonde told Harry he was right. This was going to be Hell. Draco made a gaging sound and Harry could only agree with him. A few moments later the door of the office sprung open and Lockhart waltzed into the classroom in a whirl of purple and violet robes. All the girls gasped simultaneously, and Harry felt like banging his head on the table. Lockhart flashed them a blinding smile and, spreading his hands theatrically, exclaimed, "Welcome to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts class! My name is Gilderoy Lockhart and I am going to teach you everything about defending yourself," he kept smiling and winking all the time, Harry thought he had a nervous tick, "Ah but we will begin with a small test, to check if you read my books before the beginning of the term!"

At that the male part of the class groaned and whined. Lockhart only laughed and sent the parchments with questions over to their desks. Harry caught his and sputtered. Was this man serious? What is his favourite color? What flowers does he prefer to get on his birthday? What is the name of his tailor? Harry looked at Draco who looked at him with the same expression on his face. They both turned in their parchments blank. Lockhart brought out a cage covered with cloth and put it on the teacher's desk.

"Now, today, we will start our lesson with one of the most vicious but easy to handle creatures - a pixie. Here, I brought you a little pack of them so that we could practice!" he grinned and pulled the cloth off. Inside the cage were trapped little grey and blue creatures, who looked like winged goblins only a size of a fairy. They screeched at the audience, clearly irritated. Lockhart laughed his sugar laugh again and waved a wand for the cage to open. And Hell it was. The pixies attacked the students, biting and scratching them, ripping their hair and tearing their belongings to shreds. Lockhart himself squeaked at the sight of an enraged pack and ran for the cover under his desk. Slytherins were slowly backing out of the class, gryffindors kept running around, screaming.

Harry stood up, annoyed with everybody's antics. He told Draco to take everyone out and close the door behind them. When the blonde turned to do just that, Harry shot an 'incendio' at the nearest herd of pixies. The beasts screeched even louder and filled the air with a smell of burning flesh. Harry kept calmly shooting the spell around, stunning the ones who wouldn't let go of the students. In a few minutes the classroom was empty. All the students were outside, crying behind the closed door, and all the pixies, their corpses to be precise, lay burning on the floor. Harry began packing his bag when Lockhart decided to live his hideout and slowly rose from behind the desk.

"Mr Potter!" he nervously exclaimed, trying to regain his cheerful composure, "What a masterful use of two rather difficult spells! Ten points to slytherin!"

Harry only sneered at him and strode out of the classroom. At dinner the Great Hall was filled with buzzing over the unfortunate DADA incident. The snakes were outraged. Draco told Harry he was going to write to his father and make him replace the incompetent Lockhart. When Harry noted that it would be very difficult to find a new teacher since they've changed so often here, Draco informed him that actually in the last fifty years there wasn't a single teacher who taught for more than a year at the DADA position, because it was cursed. Harry could only laugh at that. He knew it was a ridiculous thought but something told him he guessed right: the Dark Lord must have been the one who cursed the DADA position. Who else would have done something like this?

**xxx**

It was the end of september and Harry was itching again. He needed a secluded place where he could practice the dark arts to sate his hunger. He couldn't find a more suitable name for that. Deciding to go through the black tomes again Harry began shifting his possessions inside the trunk, when he found the thin black book that he took from Ginny's cauldron back at the Diagon Alley. He completely forgot about the dark artifact that Malfoy planted. Oh and dark it was. It reeked of darkness and power and Harry thought that the feel of the darkness was very familiar to him. The book, or rather a journal, was empty with only a day markings in the corner of each yellowish page. It wasn't signed and looked unused, although old. Harry sat comfortably on his bed, took out a quill and decided to write something down and see what would happen.

He wrote: "29th of september 1992". The ink slowly sank into the page and disappeared. So the journal was feeding on words.

_Hello_, - Harry wrote feeling ridiculous but trying his rotten luck nevertheless. The ink disappeared a little faster. A moment later a word in a beautiful handwriting appeared.

_/ Hello. /_

Well, who knew? The journal had it's own mind. That was getting interesting.

_Hello, my name is Harry._

_/ Hello Harry, my name is Tom. /_

_Are you an artificial mind or are you a real person?_

_/ I am a memory. /_

_Whose memory?_

_/ Of myself. I hid the memory of myself as a student inside this journal when I was at Hogwarts many years ago. Are you a Hogwarts student as well? /_

_Yes,_ - the more Harry read the more familiar the handwriting seemed. Elegant and spidery. And that dark aura...

_Tom, what is your full name?_

_/ Why do you ask? /_

How could Harry make him tell him his full name? Perhaps a little truth on his own part.

_I haven't told you my full name either. And my name is a dangerous one to have in my time. Tell me yours and I would tell you mine?_

Tom kept silent for a long time, seemingly considering his answer. Finally he wrote, reluctantly it seemed.

_/ Tom Marvollo Riddle /_

Harry laughed out loud at that. Voldemort! T.M.R.! There could be no mistaking, the initials, the handwriting, the aura... But what was his journal doing here? Why did Malfoy plant it into Weasley's cauldron? Did Voldemort know about this? Harry decided to send him a letter as soon as Copper returned.

_My name is Harry Lestrange._

_/ You are a Lestrange? How did you get my journal? /_

Tom, oh Merlin, Voldemort's real name was bloody Tom of all the names, seemed worried. Perhaps the Dark Lord wasn't planning for his journal to end up here?

_Well, Tom, that is the problem, you see, one of your servants planted this journal into the hands of a girl from a Light family. I took it from her because I felt your aura. _

_/ One of my servants? What are you talking about? /_

_Tom, I know who you are. You are Lord Voldemort. I met you._

Harry waited for almost half an hour, but Tom didn't answer. Harry shrugged and hid the journal in his trunk. He would worry about Tom later.

**xxx**

A few days later the Great Hall was filled with a loud chatter and once again everybody was staring at Harry. He inwardly cursed and angrily strode to the slytherin table. Out of the corner of the eye he could see that every student was holding a morning issue of the Daily Prophet in hands. Draco had one in his hands as well. He shot Harry a worried glance and pushed the newspaper into his hands. Harry rolled his eyes at him and read the huge heading in a bold font: "SIRIUS BLACK IS INNOCENT". Who the hell was Sirius Black? Harry frowned in confusion and proceeded to read the article.

_Yesterday evening the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge informed the press that the infamous convict Sirius Black was found innocent in the light of new evidence. We would like to remind our readers that Black was found guilty of murder of 13 muggles and a wizard Peter Pettigrew. It is also a well-known fact that Black was the one who betrayed the Potter family and told You-Know-Who where they were hiding. On the fateful night of halloween in 1981... _

Harry stopped reading feeling completely lost. He looked up at professor Snape and saw the man gesturing for him to wait outside the hall. Harry rose and left under the watchful eyes of the student body. A minute later the potions master met Harry at the doors and urged him down into the dungeons and into his office.

"What is going on, who are these people mentioned in the article?" Harry asked as soon as the door closed behind him. Severus took a deep breath and sat down heavily. He knew one day Harry would have to find out about this. Only Severus was sure he wouldn't be the one to tell him.

"Listen carefully and don't interrupt. James Potter had three closest friends: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. When he and Lily had to go into hiding, Dumbledore used a Fidelius charm. Do you know of it?" receiving an affirmative nod from Harry, the potions master continued, "Well, everybody thought that Sirius Black was their secret keeper. So when the Dark Lord came to kill you that night, it was only logical to assume that Black was the traitor who sold you out to his master. It was a ridiculous notion everybody thought Black to be the Dark Lord's right hand when he wasn't even a death eater, but that is beside the point. After your parents died and the Dark Lord vanished, Black arrived at the scene but fled only a moment later, telling Dumbledore he was going after Pettigrew who was the real traitor. Aurors found Black laughing maniacally in the street, surrounded by thirteen dead muggles. There was no trace of Pettigrew but his index finger. It was decided that Black killed him. He was thrown into Azkaban. Now, a month ago a body of dead Peter Pettigrew was found in the Knockturne Alley. He was severely maimed. Aurors reported that he died a few weeks before he was found. And they found a dark mark on his arm. The reporters began questioning Black's innocence, when it was discovered that Black never had a trial in the first place, which is, actually, illegal. The irony. Anyway, when the press threatened to publish this information, the Minister decided to give Black a fair trial. They administered the truth serum... Long story short: Pettigrew was the secret keeper, he was the one who sold Lily and James out, he was the one who killed the muggles to frame Black. Now, after 11 years spent in Azkaban Black will be a free man once again. Oh, and he is your godfather."

"Oh," was all that Harry could say. His mind was turning a thousand miles per second. Not that any part of this story really concerned him. He wasn't a Potter and Voldemort wasn't going to kill him in the nearest future. But if he had a godfather, then he could probably make the man take him in for the summers. Harry only hoped this Black wasn't anything like the weasels.

"So, did you know Black well?" Harry looked at professor, who grimaced in disdain.

"Yes, I had a pleasure to attend Hogwarts at the same time as The Marauders did. The Marauders were Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew. They all were gryffindors and their main purpose in life was to make my life a living hell," Severus spat. He hated them all and especially Black, "Your godfather is a dark wizard coming from a very dark family of Blacks, yet somehow he ended up in Gryffindor and became a bloody light wizard. Well, at least this was how they painted him. I was surprised Dumbledore never did anything to help him, when he was arrested, and never asked for a trial, for the Marauders were his personal pets and he was their mentor," Severus growled. His face distorted into a pained expression of loathing.

"So Dumbledore simply carted the man? There goes the faith of the Light," Harry snorted.

"I suppose you would want to meet Black and come into his custody to escape yet another weasley summer?" Severus looked at Harry, seemingly considering something. When Harry nodded in agreement, the potions master sighed, "Well don't get your hopes up. First, there is a possibility Black would have to undergo a serious post-prison treatment which could take a while. Second, he is blindly faithful and loyal to Dumbledore. So even if you stay with him you would still be under headmasters control."

"Damn," Harry growled and hid his face in his hands. Severus couldn't agree more. At this moment the door to the office opened and headmaster entered, smiling at the two sulking men.

"Harry, my boy, such wonderful news! Your godfather is free, now you are not alone anymore and have a family," Albus beamed at the boy, ignoring Severus' grimaces.

"Does it mean I get to stay with him in the summer?" Harry asked innocently, inwardly fuming and trying very hard not to show his emotions.

"Yes, it is a possibility. I will inquire about his health. There is still a whole school year ahead of you, it would be enough time for him to heal."

"I see. Well, I am glad. I wish I could meet him sooner."

"I suppose professor Snape told you the story about your godfather and Peter Pettigre? Such an unexpected and a sad turn of events, I must say, I would have never thought Peter to be capable of something like that!" Albus shook his head in a sad gesture.

"But Sirius was capable?" Harry asked, ire leaking through.

"Oh, but Harry, you must understand, we were at war, everybody suspected each other and all the evidence... I can't express how sorry I am for what happened to Sirius," Albus put his hand over his heart dramatically. The boy was clearly angry with him. But why? Had Severus said something?

"I understand. It's alright, professor. I'm sorry, I have to go, I don't want to be late," Harry rose up, nodded to both men and left.

"What did you tell him, Severus?" Albus frowned at the potions master.

"Pff, the truth," Severus snorted and rolled his eyes at the old coot.

**xxx**

It was dinner when Copper finally came back. Harry missed her dearly. She gave him a letter and he generously fed her everything that was left in his plate. Later, seated on his bed Harry was looking at a short missive from Voldemort telling him that there was no task for him yet for the Dark Lord was busy with some project. Harry was disappointed. Why had the man kept Copper for so long then? Harry decided he would suggest Voldemort to get his own owl instead of using his, he was the Dark Lord for Merlin's sake, he could afford one. Harry burnt the short note and leaned at the backboard of the bed, thinking. He still needed to find a place for practices and he hadn't yet gotten to the restricted section of the library. Well the latter was much easier then the former. His thought came back to the journal. He would need to tell Voldemort about it, the sooner the better. He was reluctant to send Copper away again, but decided to get it over with as soon as possible. He summoned a parchment and a quill.

**xxx**

Voldemort was amused. Who knew that dumping Pettigrew's body at the Knockturne would result in a scandal of the decade. Though he wasn't pleased that his actions freed a member of the Order, the news that the man was the brat's godfather pleased him even less. The brat was just damn lucky. It was fortunate he wasn't attached to anybody, and if Black was still a fighter of the Light, then the boy wouldn't get attached to him as well. Good. He needed the Lestrange heir to be loyal and cruel, heartless, just like his father.

Voldemort mused for some time over the newspaper and then returned to his work. Before calling for his death eaters he had to prepare himself. There was a lot to do. His coming back as the Dark Lord Voldemort would have to be carefully planned and more followers would have to be recruited. He was also planning to break free his most loyal who had been residing in Azkaban for the last 10 years. All that needed to be executed carefully and steadily. He wouldn't rush. Not like the last time... And then there was the brat and his task. He lied to the boy, he actually had a task for him, but ickle Lestrange wouldn't be able to do it on his own. No, he wouldn't rush. The brat was right, it was imperative to get the full prophecy. And there were only the two of them, who could get their hands on the blasted thing. No, they needed to be careful and subtle with this.

He heard Copper's hooting through the daze of his thoughts. Looking up he was surprised to see her back already. What was that the brat wanted this time? Voldemort patted the owl affectionately and opened the letter.

_My Lord (see, I learn fast, don't I)_

_I am, of course, upset you don't have a task for me at hand, but that is alright. I am writing to you because back in august at the Diagon Alley Lucius Malfoy planted a dark artifact into the hands of one of the weasels. Well, I took it and hid it in my trunk. I've found some time to examine it now and to my surprise the artifact turned out to be your journal. Who would have thought that your real name is Tom? Is that why you called yourself Voldemort, because people wouldn't cower before somebody named Tom? Please. Anyway, the journal is in my possession, your younger self is terrified of me. The journal is safe and hidden, what should I do with it? _

_An anagram, seriously? And get your own owl, for Merlin's sake._

_Regards,_

_Harry. Just Harry. Plain and simple._

_P.S.: did you curse the DADA position?_

Voldemort gaped yet again. How, how was it possible that everything in his life revolved around one goddamn blasted boy who just wouldn't die when Avada Kedavra was thrown at him. The Dark Lord sulked in his chair massaging his temples. Fury slowly rose in his chest. Lucius was going to be punished. Severely. The orders were to keep the object safe and not use it for personal vendetta. It was just the brat's infamous luck that he found it and was smart enough to hide it. Circe, he was surrounded by idiots.

**xxx**

Harry was drinking his morning coffee, which was very strong and bitter, when Copper landed on his shoulder with a letter. Well, now he answered him super fast. Figures. The journal must be very important to him. Harry wondered what kind of dark magic was used to create it. He took the letter and hid it in his robes. He would read it after dinner.

It was yet another DADA class with Lockhart. The clown was waltzing in front of the class retelling them stories from his books about his heroic fights with different dark creatures and wizards, his dinners with vampires and negotiations with giants, the walks under the moon with veelas... Draco was dozing off leaning on Harry's shoulder and Harry himself was writing a transfiguration essay. He decided to put the time to a better use. When Lockhart was bragging about dueling with a notorious dark wizard from France, someone from gryffindor asked if they were going to duel in the course of their lessons. Harry and Draco both jumped in their seats when Lockhart cried that it was a brilliant idea and that he would establish a Dueling Club here at Hogwarts. They were to come into the Great Hall after dinner. There went Harry's research. No library for the wicked tonight.

The whole student body was present at the opening of the Dueling Club. Harry and the snakes stood in front of the crowd facing a high platform. Lockhart and professor Snape both stood on it, their faces wore expressions that clearly showed just what each of them thought of the event.

Lockhart waved his arms energetically and exclaimed, "Welcome, welcome to the opening of the Dueling Club! Tonight my colleague, professor Snape, would help me with the demonstration of a proper dueling etiquette," he grinned at the potions master, who looked like he was going to strangle the blonde, "Now, first we bow, then we walk ten steps away from each other and put on a proper dueling stance."

They both bowed, walked the necessary distance and took the stances. Harry thought that professor Snape looked really intimidating like that. He really wished to see the man in action but he was certain that Lockhart was nothing but a fraud and wouldn't stand a chance. And right he was. Professor Snape sent a simple 'expelliarmus' and Lockhart was thrown into the wall and landed hard on his arse onto the stone floor, his wand flying up in a different direction. Students cheered, slytherins were ecstatic. Harry smiled at the potions master, who looked at his incompetent colleague in contempt. When Lockhart found will and pride to gather himself up and climbed the platform again, he smiled wryly and addressed the crowd.

"Well, that was unfortunate, I got distracted. But nevertheless, I think it's time for you to put your knowledge to practice. Now, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, please, come up and duel!"

Harry groaned. His classmates patted him on the shoulders, encouragingly. He bowed his head and reluctantly climbed onto the platform. Ron came up with a smug look on his face. Judging by the faces of his peers, Harry concluded that the redhead had something up his sleeve. Pity that Harry couldn't use one of the dark curses. That would be the sight... They bowed and took their stances. Ron sent a stunner but Harry simply moved out of the firing range and sent his own 'expelliarmus'. Ron barely dodged and sent a jelly-legs curse, which Harry also sidestepped and threw a 'tarantallegra' at the redhead. The curse hit its victim and Ron began dancing and cursing under his nose. Harry just stood there and watched him, bored. Finally when Ron managed to cancel the curse, his face was so red it clashed with his hair and Harry felt somewhat sorry for him. Then the redhead smiled viciously and pointing his wand at Harry shouted 'serpensortia'. Out of the tip of his wand a large green snake appeared and began hissing menacingly at the people around it. While students kept crying and screaming, Harry stood there completely befuddled. He could understand what the snake was saying, it was speaking in english.

::Filthy noisy humans. I would kill and eat you all::

When it moved towards him with venom dripping from her fangs, Harry decided that he should talk some sense into the snake.

::Stop! Don't do it! Or they would kill you!::

::A speaker?:: the snake stopped, surprised, and looked at Harry curiously, ::There hadn't been a speaker for so many years, I bow to you snake master:: - and the snake bowed its head at Harry. Only then Harry noticed that the hall was deadly silent and everybody kept watching him with horror in their eyes.

::I think you'd better hide, they all are a little nervous:: he stretched his arm and the snake obediently slithered onto it and wrapped itself around it tightly.

"Potter, the hell are you doing?" professor Snape was the first one to react.

"It said it wanted to eat us all, but clearly the snake is just frightened. I offered it my help," Harry said nonchalantly, inwardly hitting himself. Judging by everybody's reaction it was not normal to talk to the snakes. Not normal at all.

"I think we should get rid of it for the sake of everybody's safety," Lockhart woke up. And before Harry could do anything he banished the snake with a spell. Harry fumed, seeing red. Not that he got suddenly attached to snake, it was simply not the man's place to decide whether to get rid of it or not.

"The hell did you do that for? It was harmless!" now, that was not the right thing to say, everybody looked at him as if he was insane. Harry huffed in exasperation and jumped off the platform.

Draco hesitantly approached him and quietly said, "You could have told me, you know?"

"Draco, I swear, I never knew I could speak to snakes until right now," they were walking out of the hall, followed closely by the slytherins. The other houses stood frozen in their places.

"So you never knew you are a parselmouth? This is incredible!"

"Don't forget that I grew up with muggles... A parsel-what?"

"Parseltongue is the language of the snakes, and parselmouth is the speaker of said language. The most famous parselmouths are Salazar Slytherin himself and the Dark Lord. Oh, well, and you too, now, I suppose," Draco shrugged, amusement clear in his face.

Wait, what? Voldemort was a parselmouth as well? Was there anything in Harry's life that didn't revolve around the bloody Dark Lord?

**xxx**

Harry didn't read the letter, he was overwhelmed with the latest events. He simply went to bed. It was saturday the next day and he decided to research the library on the parseltongue matter. All the students left as soon as he entered. Now, that was a clear advantage of his newfound skill. He didn't find anything useful except a few mentions of it being an indication of a dark heritage, mentions of Salazar Slytherin and a note that all the parselmouths were related to him or were his direct descendants. So, were he and Voldemort related? Now, that was a scary thought. Thinking about Voldemort, Harry remembered he hadn't read the man's letter. He took it out of his pocket and unfolded it.

_Brat,_

_A round of cruciatus is in order the next time we meet. Stop trying my patience. Regarding my journal: it is a very dangerous and precious artifact. I am very displeased with Malfoy and he would beg for a swift death at the end of my wand, for it was never meant to leave his manor. There is no opportunity for us to meet yet, so I can't take it from you, SO YOU MUST KEEP IT SAFE. If anything happens to it - you're dead. And I wouldn't suggest conversing with it either._

_I will ignore your petty jabs for now. And no, I like Copper better._

_The Dark Lord_

_P.S.: yes I did. Enjoying it?_

Harry chuckled. The arrogance of this man. However, he said the journal was dangerous. How could a memory be dangerous?

**xxx**

Later at night when his roommates were asleep, Harry put on his invisibility cloak and crept out of the common room. He slowly walked the empty corridors of Hogwarts wary of Professor Snape being on watch tonight. He reached the library and carefully unlocked the door with a spell. Closing it softly behind himself, he quickly moved in the direction of the restricted section. Moving across the shelves, he ran his fingers over the spines of old tomes. Some of them trembled under his touch, some pricked on his skin. About half an hour later Harry had a few books in his hands. He settled down on the floor and moving his lit up wand over the pages began scanning for information.

Parseltongue was an ancient language of snakes and most kinds of dragons, who all were descendants of a Great Serpent, who was seen as a godlike creature and wielded the elements of earth and fire. People were the last and the weakest of its descendants and there were only a few of them. There had been no record kept whatsoever, since they spoke only in parseltongue and wrote and read in it as well. The greatest gift of the Father Serpent, however, was the parselmagic. It used all the same spells, only pronounced in parsel they couldn't be broken, or lifted or modified in any other language. Parselmagic was also notorious for its deep roots into the elemental magic which was listed as the 'old magic' and was prohibited. Parselmagic was thought to be a very dark and negative sort, it's wielders lived in closed communities and were aggressive towards the others. The first recorded name of a parselmouth was one of Salazar Slytherin. Although he was quite open-minded and sociable, comparing to his relatives, he never shared his gifts or knowledge with anybody except other parselmouths.

The rumors said that after Hogwarts was found and began taking in its first students, Slytherin built a system of underground tunnels underneath the school with the infamous Chamber of Secrets hidden inside of them. It was also rumored that only the parselmouths were able to open it. The purpose of the chamber wasn't established. Due to Salazar's controversial and rather cruel views on muggles, muggle culture and wizarding community, most assumed that the Chamber of Secrets was created for hiding and torturing muggles. Well, that was informative. Parselmagic sounded wicked. He needed to research elemental magic as well.

The next book was on the History of Hogwarts. It was more thorough then the one they had in the curriculum and it had more detailed information about the structure of the castle, but sadly there were no mentions of any secret rooms or passages, nor was there any mention of the Chamber of Secrets for that matter. Harry wondered if the Chamber was immune to Hogwarts' wards... It was only a legend though. On the other hand, every legend had its own share of truth.

The book on the Art of Occlumency was most informative. Harry was surprised to find that he actually managed to master the art without even knowing it. He had already created the sheilds and learnt to enter his mind to sidestep the pain. But he still had to create a sound mindscape to be able to put his thoughts and memories into order and hide them. Then he would be able to control his emotions and magic as well. Then he would need to learn to create the false memories. He mesmerized the necessary exercises and moved on to the Art of the Legilimency tome. Well that sounded easier. It was based solely on the power of will. The most difficult aspect of this art was subtlety. Basic legilimency was painful and could be easily detected even by someone who didn't know occlumency. To enter one's mind discreetly and imperceptibly was really hard and called for a well developed self-discipline. Harry wasn't in a rush with mastering legilimency anyway, so he decided to put it to rest for the time being.

When he got back into the dorm, it was almost 5 in the morning and Harry was exhausted. He put away his cloak and fell on the bed, immediately asleep.

**xxx**

Harry slept through breakfast on sunday and wasn't in the mood to do anything in particular. His roommates left to watch the quiddich practice and he was left alone, finally in peace. He had some time to brood. Harry lay on his back and watched the ceiling. Too much had happened in the past two months. He was somewhat overwhelmed. Voldemort's resurrection of sorts, his addiction, his godfather's sudden appearance, the parsel-abilities, the blasted journal... The journal though. Tom didn't answer Harry the last time they talked. Maybe he had already gotten over whatever there was? Harry took the journal out of his trunk and opened it. It was blank as usual. Harry summoned a quill and wrote:

_Tom, I know you probably don't want to talk to me anymore. Anyway, I contacted Lord Voldemort and informed him of your current placement in my hands. He is unable to come and fetch you, so he told me to guard you until he finds a way to meet me. Just wanted to let you know that you are safe with me._

Harry watched as the ink slowly vanished out of sight. He had no hopes for the answer so he simply lay back once more and stared at the ceiling again. Some time later he felt a shift in journal's aura and took a look at the page. Tom had answered.

_/ I see. I wasn't prepared to face somebody like you, but judging by the time you live in, I suppose it is possible for you to know the older me personally. How are we related? Apart from that you are, apparently, a grandson of a Lestrange that was one of my first followers here? / _

_We're pen-pals._

_/ Pen-pals?! / _- Tom was clearly surprised. Harry snickered. He wasn't going to tell the young Voldemort their long and complicated history.

_Yes. We know each other personally, met a few times, but mostly we correspond through letters. _

_/ So you are a servant then? /_

_No, I am not marked and I am too young for that yet. I'm simply helping him as much as possible._

_/ How can a child be of any help to the Lord Voldemort with 50 years of experience and practice of the dark arts?/_

_I think he's better suited to answer that particular question. Tom, I'm sure you know Hogwarts better then anybody else and I really don't want to disturb your older self with my questions. Do you know if there is any place here that is secluded from the prying eyes and is not included in Hogwarts' wards?_

_/ Looking for a place to practice the dark arts? /_

_Yes_

_/ I might know of a place... But you must give me something in return for this information. /_ - oh well, he was the Dark Lord and a slytherin, alright. It would have been suspicious if he didn't ask for something.

_Sure. What do you want?_

_/ Give me a drop of your blood / _- great Merlin, why was Voldemort so obsessed with Harry's blood?

_What would it give you?_

_/ Let's say, I would be a little stronger and would be able to talk to you longer / _- ah, so he was feeding on a life force. That's why Voldemort told Harry not to converse with the diary. Figures.

_Alright, tell me what is the place while I'm pricking my finger_

_/ The Room of Requirement on the seventh floor behind the tapestry. To enter the room, you have to walk in front of the wall for three times, keeping the image of what you need in mind, and the door would appear before you. Others can't enter it without your permission while you are inside /_

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well well, who would have thought? This information was worth a drop of blood. He pricked his finger on the quill and squeezed a few drops on the paper. It immediately disappeared.

_/ Your blood feels wonderful. You are a very powerful wizard, Harry /_

_So they tell me_

Harry told Tom he was going to explore the room and closed the journal hiding it in his trunk.

Pacing in front of the wall Harry thought that he needed a spacious room that would be suitable to practice different spells. He saw a door slowly materialize in the wall. Harry grinned and entered. He was gobsmacked. Of course magic had no limits, but still it was hard to comprehend how something so complicated could be so easily created out of a thin air. Harry looked around. There were dummies imitating a real human flesh, a few chairs and a bookcase with the books on offensive and defensive magic - all copies of the ones from the school's library. It was absolutely perfect. Harry shook off his robes, pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and took a dueling stance. His darkness lashed out purring in delight.

**xxx**

Harry didn't talk to Tom anymore and spent all his free time in the Room of Requirement. The fuss about his parsel-abilities died out at the beginning of december. Harry was steadily improving his dueling skills, as well as occlumency. His mindscape looked more and more like a forest surrounding a small meadow. All this time he had to avoid Lockhart persistent attention to his person. The man was clearly insane. He was certain that Harry needed to improve his image and develop his fame and use his influence to gain a fanbase. Once, when in class, he gave Harry a hint that the boy should change the color palette of his clothes. Harry only scowled at him and discreetly set one of the man's portraits on fire. Lockhart went as far as giving Harry a detention. Which consisted of signing his photographs and writing answers to his fans' letters. Harry thought that scrubbing professor Snape's cauldrons was a much more easier and pleasant punishment. Voldemort hadn't send him even a note and Harry concluded that the man was really too busy. He didn't mind.

When the Christmas holidays came, Harry felt content and even happy. His darkness was sated and pleased with every day practice, his mindscape kept developing, he mastered more and more dark curses and spells from the black books and even could perform some of them in parseltongue. Wielding parselmagic was difficult but the outcome was much more powerful then usual. And parcelmagic fed his darkness better, touched it even deeper. Harry practiced the language as well by conjuring snakes in his hideout and talking to them, listening to some of the snake legends and myths. Professor Snape informed him that his godfather was found innocent, cleared of all charges and was residing at St Mungo's going through a complicated therapy, for Azkaban took its tall on his sanity. But he progressed steadily so the chances that he would be mostly healed before summer were high.

It was the early morning of the day before Christmas when Copper brought Harry a letter from Voldemort. How did the Dark Lord make the owl obey him from a distance Harry couldn't fathom. Harry was having breakfast in the deserted Great Hall. There were only a few students there and professor Snape, who was, apparently, watching them instead of eating. Harry opened the letter and his eyes widened in shock.

_Brat, _

_Tomorrow on christmas morning at 9 o'clock sharp you are to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron. How would you get there is no problem of mine, however, if you won't show up you're dead. I am taking you on a mission with me that is all you have to know. Have your wand with you. Bring me my journal as well._

_The Dark Lord_

There went Harry's peaceful holidays. How was he to get to the Leaky Cauldron from Hogwarts? Flooing was the obvious answer but all the fireplaces were locked and could only be used by the staff. Harry looked up at the Head Table. Professor Snape. Just the man he needed. Harry finished his breakfast and stood up, his mask of indifference firmly in its place. He approached professor looking for all the world.

When the potion's master quirked his eyebrow at him, Harry quietly said, "Professor, I need your help. I need to get to the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow morning at nine. Is it possible to floo from your office there?"

"And why, pray tell me, Mr Potter, do you need to go there?"

"He told me to," Harry didn't need to elaborate exactly who told him to go to the pub in the morning. Severus blinked at him, befuddled.

"Why?"

"He said he's taking me on a mission."

"I see," in fact, the potions master felt like he was blind, deaf and numb. The Dark Lord was taking a 12 year old boy on a mission on Christmas. Should he see an irony in that? It wasn't enough for Harry to be the next Dark Lord in making with his parentage and parseltongue and power, no, he just had to go on a rendez-vous with the most powerful and dangerous Dark Lord in history. And who was Severus to stop him? The Dark Lord always got he wanted. If the boy wouldn't come to him, he would come to the boy and to the school with innocent unprotected children. Severus rubbed his face with his hand and sighed, "Fine. Come tomorrow into my private quarters ten minutes to nine. I shall unlock the floo for you and set a password, so that you could come back even if I'm not there to meet you."

"Thank you sir!" and with that Harry hastily left before the potions master could change his mind.

**xxx**

On christmas morning at nine o'clock sharp Harry stood in the Leaky Cauldron pub, looking around trying to find Voldemort and failing. Harry sat down at one of the tables. The pub was empty, only a few people were having their breakfast and reading the newspapers. Harry picked on the hem of his winter robe. How long did he have to wait? Somebody approached him. Harry looked up and met a pair of teal eyes. A tall, very ordinary looking man in his forties stood in front of him. He had long brown hair, a plain face, his skin was slightly tanned. Only his teal eyes had such a strong intensity to them that Harry had no doubts whatsoever.

"Good morning, V... Tromedlov?"

"What... no, don't answer that," Voldemort closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. His voice wasn't glamoured though, which was good, Harry liked his deep baritone.

"Should I give you your journal now or later?" Harry stood up and bowed while nobody was watching. Voldemort nodded approvingly and reached out his hand.

"I will take it now."

Harry took a parcel out of his pocket. It looked like a christmas gift, wrapped up in red and green paper. Voldemort raised his eyebrows at that.

"Well I couldn't just take a dark artifact out for everyone to see. Now it looks like I'm giving you a christmas present," Voldemort only rolled his eyes and grabbed the parcel. He put into the inner pocket of his dark blue robes and moved in the direction of a fireplace.

"We are going to the Ministry of Magic. Don't ask, you will understand later," with that he threw a handful of powder into the fire, stepped inside and called "The Ministry of Magic" and disappeared into the flames. Harry followed suit.

They entered the main hall. Harry had never been to the ministry before. It looked like it was situated underground. The walls and floors were made of shining black marble, thick round columns supported the high ceiling that disappeared into the shadows. In the far end of the hall was a round clearing with a golden fountain in the center of it. Voldemort gestured for Harry to follow and they walked to the clearing, taking a little to the right, aiming for the lifts. The ministry was mostly deserted, a few aurors and clerks were standing in the hall, paying no heed to the two strange visitors. Harry realized that whatever the Dark Lord was planning, today was the best day for his plans to unfold, for most of the staff would be away for the Christmas day.

They entered one of the lifts and Voldemort pushed the button next to the 'Level 9' and the lift suddenly jerked backwards and abruptly fell down and kept falling. Harry squeezed himself into the wall while the Dark Lord looked like nothing was happening. Finally they came to a stop and the lift moved forward to the narrow dimly lit corridor, with a dozen of doors on each side of it. A tall hooded figure in black was waiting for them there. Voldemort opened the grate and strode towards the mystery person. Harry followed silently. The hooded stranger nodded to the Dark Lord and hastily walked forward not looking back at them. They both followed. The three of them stopped at the dark wooden door at the end of the corridor, the hooded person opened it and gestured for them to stay put.

The man, as Harry concluded judging by the person's big rough hands, walked inside what looked like an empty round room with only doors on its wall. The man turned and opened the third door on his right and waved for them to follow. Harry and Voldemort complied. They entered a huge room, that seemed endless, it was filled with high cases. The shelves of the cases were full of odd looking white orbs that gleamed ominously in the torchlight. The hooded man stayed at the door while Voldemort walked forward looking at the cases numbers. Harry was close behind him, looking around with wide eyes. Each orb was numbered and had a little tablet next to it with initials and full names. Voldemort stopped and Harry almost crushed into the man. Thankfully the Dark Lord didn't notice. He turned to Harry and addressed him for the first time since they came to the ministry.

"I need you to concentrate. Do you feel anything? Calling for you, or pulling in the back of your mind?"

Harry concentrated. He felt a pull but it was barely noticeable. He frowned and tried to decipher from which direction it came.

"I feel something but it's very weak, I can't find the source."

"Walk slowly past the cases and try to find it."

Harry nodded and began moving. He walked a little further, then he turned right and walked between the cases looking around. He stopped shook his head and turned left. Voldemort was patiently following him not making any sound. Finally after ten minutes of the search Harry stopped at one of the cases and beckoned the Dark Lord closer. The man approached him and immediately saw it - the orb with a tablet "_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. The Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter_".

"Well, judging by everything I saw I guess this is the prophecy about us?" Harry whispered.

"Yes," Voldemort hissed, "Take it."

Harry complied. The orb felt cool and heavy in his hand. Harry looked up at he Dark Lord.

"Put it into your inner pocket. We're leaving."

And just like that they silently left the room. The hooded man walked them through the round room back into the corridor and left when they reached the lift. Harry once again pushed himself against the wall as the lift jerked up. They walked though the ministry hall again, back to the fireplaces. Voldemort threw in the powder and called for the Shadow Inn, which Harry recognized as the very same one they met at in august. Harry walked out of the fireplace into the inn's foyer. He could see the flash of Voldemort's robes on the staircase. Harry hastily followed.

They entered the same room as before. The Dark Lord closed the door and turned to Harry, his teal eyes glazed a little. Harry only blinked once - Voldemort dropped the glamour and was once again himself. He warded the room hissing under his breath, which Harry recognized as parseltongue spells. When the man finished, he turned to Harry and his eyes bored into boy's expectantly. Harry felt lost for a moment but then remembered what was expected of him and quickly fell down on his knees and kissed the hem of the dark blue robe. Voldemort hummed approvingly and moved to sit in the same armchair as before. Harry looked at him questioningly from his kneeling position. A ghost of a smile appeared on the Dark Lord's lips but his stony mask was quickly back in place.

"Take the orb out and place it on the table. You wouldn't want to damage it while I'm torturing you."

Harry swallowed hard and did as he was told. He then fell on his knees in front of the man again and barely registered the spell being said. The intolerable pain made his body thrash on the floor. He didn't want to scream but loud whimpers managed to escape his throat.

"Scream for me, little one, scream like a good boy you are."

Harry wanted to shake his head in rejection but could only squeeze his eyes shut and moan. When he opened his eyes there was only darkness before him. He could feel his skull burning, squeezed and fractured. His bones were vibrating under the curse and his blood was boiling. He felt numb and on fire at the same time. He couldn't take the sharpness of the hurting anymore and screamed hoarsely with all the power that was left in him.

Voldemort watched the lithe body roll and coil and arch on the dusty wooden floor. The brat's beautiful copper hair became a dirty tangled mess, his eyes burned, the green color becoming paler and brighter, like avada kedavra. Voldemort enjoyed the sight before him. It was always a pleasure to punish a servant, especially one so stubborn as the ickle Lestrange. The more they interacted the more the Dark Lord wanted the boy for himself, to mark him and have him by his side. But alas, the child was more useful at Hogwarts and had to keep up with his own cover identity. One day the child would become a man and would wear the dark mark of his master with pride. Whatever the prophecy contained, Voldemort had already decided he wouldn't kill him. He was too precious to spare. Unlike many of the death eaters, Harry Lestrange wasn't disposable and couldn't be replaced. When the hoarse screams caressed the Dark Lord's ears long enough, he smiled and lifted the curse. 30 seconds was enough for now. The boy would gradually develop a high pain tolerance, so they would lengthen the torture in time.

Harry couldn't feel anything, like if his body was cut into pieces. He tried to blink away the darkness but his eyelids felt too heavy. He didn't know how much time had passed and didn't really register when the torture finished. If it was finished, that is. He barely heard a long incantation in parseltongue and immediately felt lighter, better. Like a wave of water soothing his aching limbs, came a rush of healing power. He took a long deep breath and opened his eyes, now seeing again. He saw the blood red eyes on a handsome pale face hovering over him. The face looked even more handsome then before, he thought, even beautiful. He couldn't fathom why, at first, and then he noticed the smile. It was a very pleased smile, a very attractive one. Harry couldn't help but smile in return. Well, if all the death eaters received such smiles after being tortured into insanity then Harry could understand their blind loyalty to the man. He felt his body being levitated into the armchair opposite Voldemort. After a few moments of adjusting, Harry finally felt comfortable enough to think and function properly.

Voldemort spoke up, "Now that we've covered the matter of your imprudence, there is another matter we have to discuss," he waved his hand in the direction of the orb.

"Why are you sharing the knowledge of the prophecy with me, my lord?" Harry asked softly, his throat was still sore after the screams.

"Why, unlike Dumbledore I care for my followers. I want you to serve me willingly and so I am not going to hide the truth. Besides, I needed your help in retrieving it. You see, I had to seal my magic while we were at the ministry, so I couldn't take the orb myself. You behaved well and you deserve a little reward, don't you think?" the Dark Lord smirked, clearly satisfied with himself.

"May I call you Tromedlov when in public?" Harry wasn't going to ask this but he did. And got a glare instead of the answer, "Alright. I had to try. So, what do we do with the orb?"

"We break it. Take it and throw it on the floor. It's not the right way of reading prophecies but we would get rid of it's physical form."

Harry nodded and reached out for the table. He took the orb in his still shaking hand and with the last look at it dropped it. It shattered and a thick white mist slowly rose from its' remains. The mist took a form of a woman and chanted in a distant hollow voice:

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...The child of darkness and light would bring balance in order... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord would serve the dark... heal its master...bring balance in order...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." _

They both were silent. The mist disappeared into the thin air. Harry frowned a little and looked at the Dark Lord, whose face contorted slightly in concentration. One thing was clear: they didn't have to kill each other. The fact that he had the power, whatever it was, to vanquish Voldemort didn't mean he had to use it, right?

"I think I've already vanquished you," Harry whispered as realization hit him.

"Elaborate," Voldemort gave him a blank look at first but then stared at Harry intently.

"Well 'vanquish' is not a synonym to 'kill'. And I think I've vanquished you that night 11 years ago. Your body disappeared, but your spirit stayed, which technically means that you were vanquished but not killed, right? And I still have that power. If, theoretically, I was to throw or rebound an Avada Kedavra at you again, you wouldn't die, would you? You would be again a spirit able of possessing others. So this part of the prophecy is already fulfilled."

"I see. I agree with your logic. I marked you - your scar indicates that. But what of the power I know not? Is there anything you would like to tell me about?" the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes at Harry appraising him. Harry shifted. Well, there was nothing except the parselmagic. He didn't really want to tell, but knew it was inevitable.

"A few months ago I discovered that I am a parselmouth."

"What?"- Voldemort's mask fell. He looked gobsmacked.

:: It's the truth. I also wield parselmagic::

"You can't be a slytherin descendent. I've checked all of my pureblood death eaters, your father has no connection to my line," Voldemort kept staring at him.

"Well, is it possible then that you've given me some of your powers along with the scar?" Harry felt lost.

"Powers couldn't be shared even through the blood magic such as an adoption. Besides, I should have performed a ritual before killing you any way and it is imp-"

The Dark Lord stopped suddenly and leaned forward looking at Harry's scar intently. He very slowly reached out his hand and tentatively touched the lightning bolt with a tip of his index finger. Harry's body jerked at the contact. This was something he had never experienced before. A bolt of energy, pleasure and recognition shot through him and he gasped, leaning into the touch. Voldemort hastily pulled away and stared at Harry in bewilderment. Harry thought that this was the first time they ever touched at all, and if the fingertip had such an effect... Well, Harry would have to keep a few feet between them now, just in case.

Voldemort thought that this couldn't get more... impossible. Ever. This was the last drop. However, after he realized that the boy was in fact a horcrux, everything fell in its place. The prophecy, the meaning of the 'vanquish' part as well as the meaning of the 'heal' part, and the mysterious power. All the pieces of the puzzle now formed a complete picture. Reluctantly, he came to a conclusion that he would have to tell the boy the truth. For the boy's own sake.

"I believe you've been practicing occlumency some more?" he suddenly asked and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Yes, I have."

"Good. Now listen to me very carefully. I would have preferred not to share this information with anybody and you, of all people, but it is vital that you know. Your parsel-abilities, and that strange reaction to the touch, all come from a piece of my soul that resides inside of you. It is called a Horcrux. I've made several of these in my life, they are the reason I can't be killed but 'vanquished'. When I came for you that night I was going to make yet another horcrux, I remember now. To make a horcrux one must rip his soul - in order to do that, one has to kill a human being. When the curse rebounded at me and my body was destroyed, a piece of my soul, ripped in two, went to hide in the closest vessel it could find. It was you. There never was a living horcrux before so I would have never guessed..." he trailed off lost in thought but pulled himself together almost immediately, "Now, you are bearing a piece of my soul and you must be extra careful around Dumbledore. With your steadily growing darkness he would soon put the two and two together and would realize that you are actually the child of the dark and that you are a horcrux. So you must keep all this information behind your mental shields, do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord," Harry pushed his hair back absentmindedly. All this sounded crazy and yet... Now it was evident that he was bound to Voldemort since the very beginning. Marked or not, his future and his life and his freedom were all here, at the Dark Lord's side. And mercy.

"But if I have a piece of your soul in me, how come it doesn't possess me?"

"I believe it merged with your own, you were too young when it happened. It simply assimilated."

"I see... The journal, it's a horcrux then?"

"How do you know? Guessed again?" Voldemored huffed.

"No. You took my blood for rebirth ritual. Your soul in the journal asked for my blood as well. I figured it couldn't be a coincidence."

Voldemort nodded. He needed to secure his other horcruxes. The boy could take care of himself at Hogwarts, but the inanimate objects were easily captured and destroyed. Looked like he had another task for the boy after all.

"I know it is all quite a shock. I myself...am shocked. But there is no way out of it now. I hope you understand that you are bound to me in any case?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I have a task for you then. Regarding my other horcrux that is currently at Hogwarts. You would need to retrieve it and use the first opportunity at hand to place it into your family vault at Gringotts."

"Alright, what is it and where do I find it?" this was easy enough, Harry mused. He now felt like he had to protect all the horcruxex and Voldemort himself. Now he could clearly see why he was never afraid of him. And the familiarity and acceptance of his darkness also proved to be indicators of that. Yes, Voldemort intuitively knew that Harry shared his soul and so accepted him easily and couldn't really harm him. Simple, really.

"It is the Ravenclaw's diadem, I hid it in the Room of Requirement. Do you know it? Good. You need to ask for a room where all things hidden. Hide the diadem in your vault as soon as possible."

"I understand. I will."

"Good. I am very pleased with you, little one," Voldemort stood up and looked down at Harry seriously, - Go back to Hogwarts. Send Copper if there are any problems, or certain people behave suspiciously.

With that he apparated away in a whirl of dark blue robes. Harry spent another fifteen minutes stupidly sitting in the armchair, musing on everything he had learnt in the last hour. No, his life would never be normal. He was the Dark Lord's bloody life insurance. Well, at least now he was certain the man wouldn't kill him. Promising.

Harry slowly walked back into the Leaky Cauldron pub. It was already four o'clock. He had to go back to be in time at the dinner to not raise anyone's suspicions. Something told Harry, his life at Hogwarts was getting more complicated with each hour. His rotten luck.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, murder, sexual theme._

* * *

Smoothing invisible wrinkles on his expensive dark emerald robes, Harry walked into the Great Hall just in time to join the others at Christmas dinner. After everything that happened earlier today Harry decided to indulge himself and enjoy the evening the way he wanted, consequences be damned. He lazily pushed his long, now clean, copper hair back and sat down next to the potions master. Severus watched him out of the corner of his eye. However skilled Harry was at acting, Severus' trained eyes caught the signs of cruciatus aftereffects. He could only sigh inwardly. Whatever the boy had gotten himself into with the Dark Lord, he'd better develop some sense of self-preservation soon. Severus looked at Harry questioningly and got a small nod in return.

Harry could see the way everybody watched him. His pompous antics didn't go unnoticed. Ron took it upon himself to show that by sneering at Harry and shooting him hateful glares. Although the redhead avoided any physical conflicts since the dueling fiasco, his hatred seemed to grow in a sweeping progression. The reflection of the green ugly head of jealousy could be seen in his blue eyes. Harry could only shrug his shoulders at that. He wasn't responsible for Ron's life and wealth, so painting him a criminal in this situation was rather childish and stupid. Ginny was practically drooling over him, fidgeting in her chair. Others were watching him carefully, still a little wary. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes at that. Dumbledore, though, wore a look of deep interest, if not controlled curiosity. Whatever the old coot was up to?

A few awkward moments of silence later, somebody started a polite conversation about nothing in particular and slowly everybody got into chatting between themselves. Harry began to relax, politely responding to professor Flitwick, barely registering the topic of their discussion. However, the harmony was broken by the late yet loud arrival of Lockhart. Both Severus and Harry involuntarily groaned at the sight of the man and the whole table erupted into snickers and chuckles. Dumbledore only smiled at them and welcomed the tardy professor warmly. Lockhart was visibly upset that he couldn't sit next to Harry and had to be seated with Ron and Ginny. Frustrated, he attacked them with his endless banter about his perfect and brilliant self and Harry smirked to himself. Now all he had to do was just to sit through the rest of the meal and then he would enjoy himself in the Room of Requirement. Alas, no such luck. When Harry moved to leave after the desserts were finished, the headmaster called for him and invited him 'for a chat' at his office. Joy.

They walked the corridors in silence, Harry tried very hard to look everywhere but at acidly yellow robes of the headmaster. Harry wasn't the one to judge other's fashion sense but in Dumbledore's case it was a simple madness. They reached the entrance and the gargoyle moved away at the old man's password 'mars bars', and they walked up and into the office. The numerous small contraptions and trinkets spread around the office were clinking and jingling softly. The portraits of previous headmasters were snoring, asleep. Dumbledore sat down at his desk and, interlocking his long fingers on the surface before him, smiled at Harry, welcoming him to sit as well. Harry modestly sat on the edge of the chair and trained his eyes on the wall behind headmaster's shoulder. No eye contact with the man - the first rule of survival. Albus smiled his grandfatherly smile and twinkled at Harry.

"Harry, my boy, how are you faring?"

"I'm good, professor, thank you for asking."

"Good. Harry, I wanted to discuss some of your... latest developments with you. Did you know that you were a parselmouth before you came to Hogwarts?"

"No, sir, I had never encountered a snake in my life and never thought it even possible to talk to animals. What happened at the dueling club was my first and only experience," Harry spoke calmly but shyly, trying to look innocent.

"I see. And you don't want to develop this ability any further?"

"No. I read about it at the library. Voldemort was a paselmouth and it is said that this ability is very dark. I am honestly terrified of it."

"That is very wise, my boy, it is indeed a dangerous gift," Albus was pleased, the boy hadn't fallen under the slytherin charms, "I'm glad to hear you are being careful."

"Sir, do you know how did I get this ability? Am I a slytherin descendant?" Harry blinked at the man nervously.

"No, no, my boy, I do not believe you are. I'm afraid Voldemort shared some of his powers with you when the killing curse rebounded from you. Most unfortunate, I must admit," Harry nodded sadly at that. He couldn't guess if the coot had been already suspecting the horcrux or not.

"Yet there is another matter I wish to discuss. I've noticed your rather antisocial behavior of late. You seem absent all the time. May I ask what are you doing?"

"Oh," Harry ducked his head sheepishly wringing his fingers, "You see, professor, I... well... I'm hiding."

"Hiding? From whom?" Albus looked at him incredulously.

"Well... professor Lockhart, sir. He seems to be a little obsessed with me... you know..." Harry tugged on his collar and coughed a little for the effect.

"Ah, I see," Albus inwardly laughed at that. Lockhart was an idiot but he was harmless. Although it wouldn't do to push the boy away, "I'll talk to him, Harry, don't worry about that."

Harry smiled at him gratefully. Old fool. After a few minutes of small talk about transfiguration and charms Harry was finally dismissed. He all but ran from the office. It was already late to go to the Room of Requirement. Bloody Dumbledore.

On his way to the dungeons Harry met professor Snape who had been clearly laying in wait for him. No, Harry just couldn't relax today, could he. He huffed at the professor exasperatedly and, after being glared at, followed the man into his office. Severus went straight to the point.

"So what happened? Had he summoned you to simply torture you or what?" he sounded angry, he didn't intend to but for Salazar's sake Harry was still a child and torturing him was simply outrageous.

"No. And I deserved to be punished," Harry retorted, angry himself.

"You deserved it? Had he brainwashed you or what?" Severus shouted enraged.

"No! Merlin, no, he didn't brainwash me, I serve him willingly. Calm down already," he snarled at professor, "I provoked him, alright?"

"Provoked him? The hell did you do to get crucioed?" Severus felt irritated and befuddled at the same time. What was the brat thinking? Had he already became a servant to the man? Had he gone insane?

"I might have addressed him in a wrong way... multiple times and I might have criticized his... ah... ways of ruling," Harry was reluctant to admit that he was punished for being the imprudent 12 year old that he was.

"You might have criticized..." Severus' eyebrows shot up in shock. He vehemently shook his head in denial. Looking at angry yet confused boy he simply couldn't fathom what kind of relationship formed between the child and the monster that his master was. Severus suddenly stepped close to Harry and grabbed his arms. He pushed the sleeves of his robe up. The skin was clean. Harry harshly pulled his arms away and looked at the potions master with unfamiliar hatred.

"Don't be hypocritical, professor," he hissed and his eyes were so hard and cold, Severus flinched away in shock.

"Harry," Severus tried meekly, his voice hoarse, full of emotion, "Please... you don't have to do it, you don't owe him anything..." he couldn't find the right words. The boy was only twelve... Severus couldn't watch Lily's son throw his life away, he couldn't let him repeat Severus' own mistake.

"You don't understand, you just don't understand," Harry shook his head and rubbed his tired eyes, "I am already bound to him by the fate itself, prophecy or not, my place is at his side."

Severus just looked at him blankly. He didn't understand, no. He couldn't.

"Look," Harry sighed and gestured his hand at the man, "He took me to the Department of Mysteries, we retrieved the blasted prophecy and it said that in fact we don't have to kill each other, quite the opposite, I am to be by his side and help him with his cause."

Severus widened his eyes at that. Everything had just turned upside down.

"Professor, I know it's hard to come in terms with this right now. I am myself overwhelmed by all this. But, please, believe me when I say that I am honestly willing to serve him? I... we both need some time to adjust, I think. I only hope that you are going to be at my side later, that you won't betray the dark. You might not agree with him, his cause, I have no intention to force you, but, please, don't turn on your own, don't betray your own nature and darkness."

With that Harry walked out of the office, leaving a crucified professor behind. Severus sat down at his desk. He stared at the wooden pattern, tracing it with his calloused fingers. He vowed to protect the boy when he was born. Did it mean he had to betray Lily yet again to the dark? Would Lily want her son to choose the path of pain and destruction? Even if it was destined for him? He didn't know and Lily wasn't there to tell him.

**xxx**

It was the last day of winter holidays and it was only a few hours until the Hogwarts Express would arrive at the Hogsmead station. Harry decided it was the best time to retrieve the diadem. He spent the previous week hidden in the library, researching wards and practicing in casting them. He knew he wouldn't be able to go to Gringotts in the nearest future and so he came up with an idea to put the diadem inside one of his old textbooks and ward it in parseltongue. Harry glued the pages of the book together and cut out a square hole in them. The book wouldn't look suspicious even if somebody would dare to look through his belongings.

With the book under his arm he paced before the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times, thinking of a place where all the things were hidden. An old wooden door appeared and he stepped inside what looked like a huge second-hand furniture dump. The place was packed with all kinds of things that were put, unsorted, into small mountains that reached to the high ceiling. Harry looked around, disoriented. It was absolutely impossible to find anything in here, Voldemort should not have worried. Harry walked around a little and sighed. He needed to concentrate on the soul inside the horcrux to find it. He closed his eyes and let his darkness out. He lowered his mental shields and waited. In what seemed like ten minutes he felt it - a slight pull at the back of his mind. His darkness perked up and followed the call, leading Harry into the farthest corner of the room. There, behind the column, Harry saw an old tattered box. He felt a familiar oily darkness calling for him. He reached out and tentatively opened the box.

The diadem was small and elegant, quite feminine. It was rather plain with a few precious stones scattered over its form. Harry pulled it out and was surprised by its noticeable weight. He read up about the diadem in one of the history books: it said that this particular heirloom was designed to give its bearer an unlimited knowledge, yet the consequences of a prolonged exposure to such a gift were rather drastic. Harry hastily pushed it inside the book before he could give in to temptation of putting it on. He closed the book and took out his wand. He decided to put a simple but powerful ward and a notice-me-not charm on it. He hissed the incantations drawing patterns in the air. The book glowed faintly. Satisfied, Harry put the book under his arm again and left the room. He had a note to send to Voldemort.

**xxx**

The Dark Lord spent the winter holidays hidden at the Riddle manor, preparing to move to a new place which he was going to turn into a future base. Tom Marvolo Riddle, despite being the only living Slytherin heir, was ridiculously poor when he graduated from Hogwarts. His ancestors, the Gaunts, had lost all the slytherin fortune there was, living the vaults empty with only layers of dust to be found inside. The locket was the only Salazar's heirloom that Voldemort managed to retrieve, the others were lost forever to him, for there were no records of what exactly was left for his family to inherit. There were, however, a few unplottable pieces of land on the Irish isles that held a few old houses and one ancient castle, but Voldemort was reluctant to use them for his cause, planning to leave them as they were in case he would need to hide one day. Not that it was possible to force him into hiding but it was better to always have a plan B at hand.

Nevertheless, throughout the years of his reign, the Dark Lord had made a fortune of his own, which consisted of his follower's generous donations mostly. Some of his first original servants, or, as he called them back in the school days 'friends', gave him a lot of precious gift, expensive libraries, ancient pureblood heirloom and artifacts. And some even included him in their wills, leaving him real estates that used to be in their families for centuries. Thus, Voldemort decided to move in to the old fortress deep in the woods of Wales. The fortress lacked any wards or protections whatsoever but was well hidden and was quite spacious, which suited him just fine.

He was finishing his work on wards calculations when Copper flew into the study dropping a note into his lap. Little Lestrange had retrieved his horcrux and had hidden it rather creatively. Everything was turning out just the way he wanted. Voldemort was pleased.

**xxx**

It was february, the 14th to be exact, and Harry was having a hard time. The sight of the Great Hall decorated in red and pink hearts and roses told him that this day was going to be a true crucible. The slytherins hastily left, having barely touched their food. And just when Harry was going to follow their example, he was attacked by an ugly winged dwarf, who had thrusted a flower into Harry's hands and began singing a valentine in a loud screeching voice. Harry had never felt so embarrassed before in his entire life. His face was on fire, he could just feel how the red on his cheeks was slowly turning into the copper. The text of the blasted valentine only made everything worse. Cruciatus was a tickle comparing to this. Such a humiliation. Harry glared at the students, who were snickering into their fists, looking for the secret admirer who wasn't that much of a secret after all. Ginny was blushing fiercely, watching him with eyes wide as dinner plates. Harry's first instinct was to slit her throat with a cutting curse, but he was, luckily, restrained by Draco and Theo, who tried very hard not to cry of laughter and finally managed to pull him out of the hall. As if this wasn't enough for one day, Lockhart found a way to finally get to Harry.

For the last two weeks Harry had been seeing Lockhart researching something at the restricted section. Just the sight of the blonde with his nose deep in the books amused Harry to no end - who would have thought that a fraud like Lockhart was actually able to read and learn. And while Harry had been laughing at the man, the said man had also been stalking the copper haired slytherin, trying hard to catch him in the corridors just before the curfew. He hadn't succeeded until now.

After suffering through the whole day of valentine's humiliation and Ginny's indiscreet attempts to talk to him, Harry was angrily marching through the empty second floor corridor in the direction of the stairs, planning to spend the night cursing and blowing up dummies into oblivion. It was then when suddenly someone grabbed his shoulder from behind and pushed him hard into the wall. Harry, surprised but the harsh movement, didn't pull his wand out and turned just in time to find another wand aiming at his forehead. Lockhart was towering over him with a malicious smile on his lips that looked foreign on his usually sugar sweet face.

"Well well well, Mr Potter, I've had a hard time looking for an audience with you and I am honestly sick and tired of waiting any longer. Let me explain," at that he accioed Harry's wand and put it into his inner pocket, "You see, Mr Potter, a great adventurer that I am, I came to Hogwarts to find the legendary Chamber of Secrets, which, and I know that for a fact, was opened fifty years ago. And after a long and thorough research and a few obliviated witches I finally reached my goal. But to my great disappointment I found that only a parselmouth was able to open the entrance into the chamber. It was when I remembered your impressive duel with Mr Weasley and realized that you are actually my golden ticket to endless fame. After I open the chamber and reveal the secrets of Salazar Slytherin I will drown in the sea of gold and nobody would ever laugh at me again," he spat the last words, spitting saliva onto Harry's robes. Despite his clear disgust, Harry couldn't help but widen his eyes in surprise at the man. This idiot actually managed to find the bloody Chamber of Secrets? While Harry mused incredulously at that, Lockhart grabbed the boy by his left bicep and pulled him down the corridor and into the girl's bathroom.

"How did you manage to find it?" Harry asked, looking around for a possible way of escape.

"Oh, that Granger mudblood from gryffindor was of a great help. After a few encouraging words and long tea sessions full of teenage girl's whining, she was ready to do anything for me. I obliviated her afterwards, of course," he sounded very smug.

"Of course," Harry drawled, amused. He thought that he hadn't actually seen Granger since the end of december. The blonde had probably erased a little too much of her memory. No, Lockhart was clearly an idiot. His arrogance and self-confidence would lead him to a very sad end as soon as Harry opened the chamber. Let the man think he was in control.

"Now, I know that the entrance is here somewhere, find it," the blonde commanded and pointed his wand at Harry again. Harry obliged. He didn't even have to move. He simply hissed out ::Open:: and one of the broken sinks on their left suddenly began to move. It slid aside and they saw a big opening that led into a tube and deep down into the darkness. Lockhart cried in glee and pocked Harry's ribs with his wand, urging him down. Well, there went Harry's february robes. He could call the stairs with a parsel-spell but he decided to indulge the insufferable blonde in an exciting slide down. He jumped down and after a few seconds of sliding through the dirty stone walls, he landed harshly into a pile of human bones. And found himself in a complete darkness. When Lockhart's body landed next to him, Harry wordlessly spelled the entrance closed. Lockhart lit his wand and almost picked Harry's eye out with it. What a bloody wanker.

He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pulled them both up on their feet. Slowly, they proceeded down the narrow corridor and stopped at what looked like a cul-de-sac, but after a quick examination Harry realized that the huge snakes, carved into the stone, were actual locks of the hidden door. He hissed it to open and a thick circular door slowly pulled away. They entered a dimly lit hall. The thick round columns disappeared high above them into the dark, their forms decorated in exquisitely carved snakes that seemed to be moving ever so slightly. Lockhart was gaping. Harry felt ecstatic. At the end of the hall they could see a huge statue of Salazar, flanked by two great serpents on his sides. The air inside the chamber felt heavy and wet, small puddles of water covered the floor and splashed softly under their feet. Harry probed for the Hogwarts' wards and found none - there were only parsel-wards of Salazar himself. Harry smiled viciously in delight and turned to Lockhart, not hiding his expression.

"Well, congratulations, Gilderoy. What a true hero you are," Harry purred at him and his smile became feral. Lockhart blinked at him in surprise and took a step back.

"Mr Potter, what, what are you saying?" a sudden chill ran down his spine as he took in Harry's bared teeth and stone hard eyes. Harry wriggled his eyebrows at the blonde and moved closer. He flicked his wrist and both his and Lockhart's wands jumped into his open palm. The blonde gasped and widened his eyes in shock. Harry slowly raised his hand and waved Lockhart's wand at the man, teasing. He cackled at the blonde's befuddled face and set the wand on fire. It cracked and swiftly turned into ash.

"Potter! No!" Lockhart cried and stumbled back. Losing his balance, he landed onto his arse right into the puddle. Harry twirled his ash wood wand in his hands, smiling softly to himself, seemingly considering his next course of action.

Lockhart, still on the floor, whined, "Please, Mr P... Harry, dear, please, let me go..." he trailed off when he saw that Harry's face took on the expression of a violent delight, light dancing merrily in his cruel green orbs.

"Begging now, Gildy? Lovely. I would also like to hear you scream," he purred dreamily, " You see, I haven't yet practiced the unforgivables on a human being and I am eager to. I wish to develop my skills further to please the Dark Lord. I am sure he would be proud. I want him to be proud of me, you know," Harry said softly, tilting his head a little. He looked angelic and it terrified Lockhart.

"The Dark L... Harry? What are you talking about?" he was so confused, he didn't understand what was going on.

"Long story short, Gildy... Crucio!"

The violent thrashing of the body under his wand brought Harry to the highest peak of pleasure almost immediately. He rolled his eyes back and let himself fall into his darkness' passionate caress. Every nerve of his body itched pleasantly and he felt like touching himself. Yes, he could see now why Voldemort was so generous in throwing crucios around like confetti. When wild high screams slashed through the air, Harry fell onto his knees, panting, and began stroking his growing erection through the fabric of his trousers. He lifted the curse and, sliding his wand into the sleeve, pushed his now free hand into his disheveled wet hair and tagged hard on it. Pain mixed with pleasure and Harry came, groaning loudly. He swayed from side to side in a wave of lust and blissfulness that washed over him. He had never touched himself before, it was his first orgasm. Salazar, it felt fantastic. His darkness was trembling inside of him in violent convulsions of glee and pleasure. Harry licked his lips and slowly pulled himself together, watching the shaking and whimpering form of Lockhart. He looked so pathetic and miserable. Weak. Weak useless worm that he was. Harry stood up and walked over to the cowering man, who was crying like a bloody girl. Harry put his foot on blonde's chest and pushed hard.

"Weak. Pathetic," he spat with loath in his voice, "Worthless fraud, you belong in the gutter, not at the school. I despise you."

And with that Harry pulled out his wand and, ignoring Lockhart's hoarse cries of denial, pointed it at him and said impassively, "Avada Kedavra."

And in a flash of green light Lockhart ceased to be.

**xxx**

Somewhere in Wales, Voldemort sat up with a start on his bed. A wave of sudden pleasure washed over his limbs, arousing him. He couldn't understand where did the feeling come from, for he wasn't anywhere close to pleasure only seconds before, totally concentrated on the arithmacy book in his hands. Despite his evident arousal, he furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. This emotion wasn't his own. It felt like it was tagging on the back of his mind, invading his body. He was confused.

**xxx**

Harry left Lockhart's body in the chamber. The emotions he had experienced moments ago were too much for him and he decided to leave and come back later. Nobody could get inside anyway. He slowly went back into the bathroom and yawned. It was long past curfew and he didn't have his invisibility cloak with him. He cursed under his breath. Sighing, he retreated into his mindscape and began shifting through his memories, looking for a disillusionment spell. He found it and came back to reality. Casting it on his way down to the dungeons he yawned again. A good night's rest was in order. Barely escaping Filch, who suddenly showed up around the corner, Harry quickly reached the common room and went up into the dorm. Banishing his wet dirty clothes he climbed under the covers on his bed and fell asleep a second later. His dreams were filled with screams and a pair of blood red eyes gleaming in the darkness.

The news about Lockhart's disappearance spread fast like fire. Aurors arrived two days later to investigate but found nothing, except Lockhart's belongings. Both professor Snape and the headmaster had to cover the DADA lessons for him and for the first time in years students were actually eager to have defense classes. Harry was glad as well.

**xxx**

It was at the beginning of april when Harry could finally visit the Chamber again. It was saturday morning. Harry left his classmates at the pitch and, disillusioning himself, soon came into the girl's bathroom. He ignored the Mourning Myrtle's gasps when he opened the entrance, staying invisible, and called for stairs in parseltongue. Once down in the corridor, he hissed the entrance closed and canceled the invisibility charm. He entered the Chamber and didn't stop himself from smiling. It felt like coming home. The corpse was still fresh, which led Harry to a conclusion that the place was charmed for preservation. He walked around a bit, gently touching the carvings on the walls and columns, taking in every detail. He moved closer to Salazar's statue, a portrait to be precise. A huge face towered over Harry, almond shaped eyes closed, a long slightly crooked nose hovering over the thin lips pursed into a straight line, wild locks of hair spread in a halo around the face, interlocked with the great serpents' bodies on the sides. Harry touched the sacred mass of stone and it hummed under his hand. He closed his eyes and listening to his darkness' whispers hissed out :: Speak to me, Slytherin, the greatest of the Hogwarts four!::

The statue's lips slowly parted, opening the mouth wide, and Harry took a few steps back, watching excitedly. From the dark tunnel behind the opened mouth emerged a huge head of a snake. It took Harry a few seconds to put the two and two together and figure out that he was, in fact, facing a basilisk. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and stepped back again.

::Master? Is that you?::

::I bow before you, great serpent. I am not your master.:: Harry hissed, bowing blindly, hoping it was the right thing to say.

::You smell like my Master. You speak. Your power is great. I bow to you as well. You are my Master now.::

Harry felt a flicker of snake's forked tongue on his skin. Wet cool scales pushed into his palm and Harry smiled.

::Open your eyes, Master. You shall not be hurt.::

Harry complied and dropped his jaw in fascination. The basilisk was huge and absolutely beautiful. It's dark green scales shone and changed its hue into a deep blue in the dim light. Snake's yellow eyes watched him intently. Harry gently stroke the great head with both hands, bewitched with the sight before him.

::I am called Anguis:: the basilisk hissed slowly, purring under caress.

::I am called Lestrange:: Harry hissed back, not really registering that he gave his last name instead of the first. He moved closer and leaned onto Anguis' huge body. The basilisk coiled around him, hissing softly in content. They stayed in the companionable silence for a long time. Harry suddenly remembered the corpse.

::Anguis, I have a small gift for you.:: he summoned the body closer to the snake. Anguis lashed out and in a flash of long white fangs the Lockhart's corpse was gone. The basilisk purred in delight and nuzzled into Harry's face.

::Thank you, Master.::

Harry sighed happily and relaxed into Anguis' coils. He soon fell into content slumber.

**xxx**

The last few months of the term passed by in a haze. Harry spent his time studying, practicing the dark arts and talking to Anguis. The basilisk was ancient and held a great knowledge of the past. Harry was fascinated with the stories he was told. He also moved his practicing into the Chamber, to be able to converse with his new familiar as often as possible. In the middle of may Harry received a letter from Sirius Black. It was short.

_Harry,_

_It's all rather frustrating. I can't find the words to express how sorry I am for leaving you and for not being in your life when you most needed me. I can't hope that you would like me or even accept me. But I want you to know that should you need me - I will be there for you. I am your godfather and your official guardian now, though if you don't want me in your life - I will understand and will pass my guardianship to anybody you choose. _

_Sirius Black_

Harry decided he wanted to meet the man before making any decision whatsoever, and he sent him a reply note with just that. They agreed to meet in two days, on sunday, here at Hogwarts. Harry was rather excited. If Black proved to be a bearable human being, then Harry would have his long anticipated freedom.

Professor Snape generously, though somewhat reluctantly, offered Harry to meet his godfather in his office, away from prying eyes and curious ears of one headmaster. Harry was surprised to discover that Black never wrote to Dumbledore and never informed him of this meeting. The only thing that Black ever told the headmaster was that he would, indeed, take on his guardianship over Harry, canceling Dumbledore's. Harry figured it wasn't a pleasant conversion. Apparently, Black wasn't as dense as Harry thought and started questioning his mentor's actions and motives.

When a tall, still very thin, dark haired man entered the office, Harry felt something familiar pricking on his senses. The first incomprehensible memories from his childhood were closely connected with this man. Sirius Black looked exactly like Harry remembered him, although the image in his head was blurry. His black hair was curly and wild, reaching down slightly past his shoulders; his face, long and angular, was covered in small pale scars, self-inflicted as it seemed; the dark grey eyes told Harry that the man was intelligent and dangerous, his emotions hard to read; the thin straight nose, thin pale lips and a softly curved jaw showed his aristocratic heritage. The man had a regal air around him and the only indication of his nervousness and self-consciousness were his veined scarred hands, tightly locked together, twitching ever so slightly. Sirius and Harry sat facing each other in silence, both taking in each other's appearance.

Black spoke first, "You are dark."

"We both are," although Black's darkness was suppressed, Harry could still feel it. However hard the man tried, he would never be a light wizard.

"And you are not James' son," the grey eyes were boring into the green ones.

"Is that a problem?"

"No," Sirius said simply, and leaning forward, added calmly, "I wasn't only James' friend but Lily's as well and when I became your godfather, I did it for you and for myself, not for them."

The way he said that made Harry smile at him. Sirius smiled back, cobwebs of wrinkles surrounded his eyes and Harry could see warmth and mirth deep inside of them.

"Do you know who is your father?"

"One of your neighbors back in Azkaban," Harry said nonchalantly.

"Lestrange," Sirius nodded in understanding, smiling sadly. He knew what happened to Lily, though he never knew who, "Which one of them?"

"Rabastan. I came into inheritance and I am now the head of the house."

"Figures," Sirius gave a whistle, "I wonder what would he say if he knew. Though it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Sirius," Harry decided to go straight to the point, "I like you so far and would love to live with you but I have to be blunt about this: Dumbledore and I don't really see eye to eye, you know?"

"After twelve years of doing nothing but suffering and thinking, I guess I don't see eye to eye with him either," Sirius replied softly, and looked down at his tensed hands still clasped together, "What did he tell you about that night? About why that happened? About me?"

"He only told me what happened, not really giving any details. The first time I learnt of your existence was back in autumn, from the papers. Professor Snape was the one who told me your story, - Sirius winced at the mention of Snape but kept silent, "As for why all that happened that night I've learnt on my own. I know the prophecy by the way."

"I see," Harry could clearly see the man was angry at Dumbledore. Good. "So what does the blasted thing say? I never actually believed in all that Divination rot but after what happened to you, to us all, I don't know what to think, really."

Although the man sounded subdued, Harry knew that he was wicked, perhaps a bit crazy. He hoped to push him a little and to release his darkness in time. It must have been maddening to consciously suppress one's self for the sake of the others.

"Well, in short, it says Voldemort and I are meant to be best buddies and fight for the dark, side by side," Harry flashed a shit-eating grin at Sirius and to his surprise the man laughed. His laughter sounded like barking, but it was deep and rich nonetheless.

"And you are clearly happy about it, aren't you?" he smiled broadly. Harry was amused and pleased. The prison had probably helped him to come in terms with his own nature, - But what would you do when he comes back, that is, if he comes back?

"Oh, but he already did," Harry laughed. Sirius' eyes widened in shock and he opened his mouth to say something, but shut it, changing his mind. He hunched a little and crossed his arms over his chest, considering something.

"So you are going to side with him then?" at Harry's affirmative nod Sirius sighed and shook his head, "I can't... It's too soon for me to even consider this. I won't join him, for I am not as forgiving as you are, but I won't judge you and won't stay in your way."

"So you would go for the neutrality?" well, that was more than Harry could hope for, anyway.

"Yes, I suppose I would. As long as there are no torturing cells in my house and as long as you don't come home blooded and tortured into oblivion I'm fine with your choices. My friends are dead, and there is nobody else on the light's side I care for, so..." he trailed off and looked at Harry sadly but warmly. Harry couldn't believe his luck.

"And what of this Lupin?"

"Remus is a werewolf. He was on the light's side for the same reason I was. Now he would most likely stay neutral as well."

"And what of your family, heritage?"

"I am the head of the house, and I will have to take my duties seriously. I... My family and I have a long and complicated history, I would tell you later if you want," he reluctantly offered.

"Alright," Harry smiled and offered his hand for a handshake, "I am Lord Lestrange and it is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Black."

Sirius shook his hand and laughed again.

**xxx**

Albus was not pleased with the latest developments. First, that idiot Lockhart had disappeared and Albus had to answer to the Board of Governors, who accused him of loosing teachers twice in the middle of the term, and threatened to fire him. Second, the Granger girl turned out to be obliviated and was now at St Mungo's with no chances of coming back to Hogwarts whatsoever - her memory was blank. He hoped to use her to influence Harry, but now she was, of course, useless. Third, Black had barely exchanged a few words with him when checking out of St Mungo's, informing him that Harry would no longer be his ward. And that was it. Sirius was damaged beyond repair and those bloody vultures at the Child Services Department would not listen to reason. Black was cured and therefore was a suitable guardian, he was made a godfather directly by the parents and his guardianship was demanded in their will as well. There was no loophole for Albus to gain his control over Harry back. He could remind them that Sirius was a dark wizard from a family which was notorious for its support of Voldemort but that would be futile in the light of the man's story - he was a martyr of the Light. No, Albus had to find a new way of keeping Harry in check. It was vital to keep the boy as light as possible. He would have to do everything himself.

**xxx**

It was june and Voldemort was finally ready to call for his death eaters. The fortress had been fully repaired, thoroughly warded and had everything that was necessary. It was divided into two parts: the smaller part was Voldemort's personal wing, where nobody but himself and house-elves could come, with the exception of one particular brat, since they shared the blood; the other, bigger part, was remade into the death eater base. It consisted of the headquarters, the ceremony hall for meetings, the practice rooms, the dungeons with the holding cells, the torture chamber and everything else.

He sat at the desk in his study, not seeing the papers in front of him. He hadn't yet decided whether he would show his true face or put on a glamour of his old intimidating snake-like persona when he met his followers. It was somewhat disconcerting to admit that the resurrection ritual brought him back to his sanity (he had to absorb one of his soul pieces in the process, the one that Nagini used to bear; the creature died, unfortunately) and, after a year of revising and planning, he came to a conclusion that he lost his way, back in the war, and forgot his actual goals, reveling in his own madness. And now he wasn't really sure if most of his servants followed him not for his true cause but for the opportunity to cause chaos. A disturbing thought it was. He was blinded by his insane rage and his uncontrollable fear of death. And when ickle Lestrange asked, incredulously, if he really was planning to wipe out 6 billion of muggles, back then when he was still a spirit, he couldn't give the brat a valid answer, because he realized that the mere idea sounded insane and he also realized that he was the one behind it. And now he would have to restore everything back to the way it was. Basically, he would have to start from the scratch, again. However, that was exactly what the prophecy had been hinting at, hadn't it?

Voldemort was pulled out of his musings by the now so familiar sound of Copper's soft wings. The owl, who, surprisingly, bonded to both Harry and Voldemort, hooted gently at the Dark Lord and, after being comfortably settled on his shoulder, began preening lovingly on his hair. He gave her a small, barely evident smile and opened the letter.

_My Lord,_

_Haven't heard from you for a while, hope you've finished your renovations alright. Fortress sounds wicked, it becomes you._

_Anyway, I'm writing to inform you that the diadem is in my family's vault now. Black took me to Gringotts the first day I came back from Hogwarts. Oh and I live with him now, in London, in one of the Black family's houses. He is my official guardian. He is also neutral, hates the old coot and has nothing against me being on your side, though he hates you as well. All in all he is an ideal guardian and I am available to you throughout the whole summer._

_Also, Anguis sends his regards, says he's not pleased with you abandoning him for fifty years. Really, my lord, how cruel are you?_

_Me_

Voldemort shook his head. The boy clearly enjoyed being tortured. As for Black... well, if the man would truly stay neutral and would stay out of his way, then he wouldn't spare him another thought. The fact that the brat was now free, pleased the Dark Lord greatly. He would mark him this summer. He had been waiting for far too long. Perhaps, as a birthday present? Anguis though, he had never been a patient snake... Wait. What. The brat found and opened the Chamber? And was now, obviously, Anguis' master? The Dark Lord cursed aloud. He should have already got used to it. That damned Lestrange. Now he would have to call him for the first meeting to simply curse him into oblivion for his rotten luck. Voldemort huffed in exasperation.

**xxx**

12 Grimmauld Place was the ancestral home of many generations of Blacks. Although after Sirius' parents died, it was left uninhabited and slowly began to decay. Harry entered the old house and sneezed, twice. The layers of dust were an inch thick. Sirius shrugged apologetically. He told Harry that had always despised this place, however, if they worked on it together, they might be able to turn it into a nice, comfortable house to live in. After a few steps forward, Harry came to a halt in the middle of the shadowed hall. Somebody began to shriek on the verge of their lungs, shouting profanities towards mudbloods and traitors. After looking around a bit, Harry found the source of the unbearable noise.

"Mother! Shut up!" Sirius was pushing the black curtains over a big portrait closed. Harry, intrigued, carefully approached them. It was a portrait of the old, once beautiful, woman who bore unmistakable resemblance to Sirius.

"You! The shame of our family! Bloody traitor! Mudbloods lover! Did you bring your filthy scumbags of friends again? No mudblood would place a foot inside the ancestral home of the most ancient and noble house of Black!" she kept on screeching and only a few seconds later registered that Harry stood beside angry looking Sirius and was smiling at her antics, "What are you smiling at, you, filthy half-blood?"

"Mrs Black, it is very rude to insult your guests without even greeting them properly," Harry stepped closer, his face clearer in the light, his voice cold and uncaring. He heard Walburga gasp in recognition.

"L-Lord Lestrange?" she whispered hesitantly.

"Precisely. It is not really a pleasure but an honor to meet you, my lady," Harry bowed and smirked at her. She looked at Sirius with a question in her wide eyes.

"Mother, this is Harry Lestrange, my godson. Please, stop screaming or I will set you on fire this instant."

Despite her initial surprise, she narrowed her eyes at her son's calm yet commanding tone, "You've changed, Sirius," she was watching him intently, shooting glances at Harry from time to time.

"I have, you would be pleased. Now, where is this bloody elf? Kreacher!"

Harry met the old ugly elf, whom he intimidated into submission just in a few seconds. Sirius watched him incredulously and only shook his head at the cowering creature, who was now praising the noble lord Lestrange. It looked like Harry was able to make this place livable after all.

They spent the whole day exploring the house and making notes of what needed to be changed. Harry chose Regulus' room for himself, for everything there was in good condition and didn't need anything except a good dusting. Harry was ecstatic at the sight of the Black library. The amount of dark books and their alluring aura made his head dizzy. He informed Sirius that this was his second room - his godfather only waved his hands dismissively at that, clearly not giving a shit. It was perfect.

As a week passed by they began to slowly getting to know each other. Harry told Sirius about his childhood and about his killings. Sirius only shook his head at that guiltily, blaming himself. But it didn't stop him from wishing that he was the one who killed the Dursleys. He knew them personally and was enraged with the mere idea that Dumbledore could place his godson with them, of all people. The headmaster lost even more points, Harry mused, pleased.

Sirius told Harry about his childhood as well. It turned out that he was simply terrified of his responsibilities and all the expectations hat his family had put on him. He was not ready to take on the mantel of the heir, he despised politics, never cared for the purity of blood, and didn't want to have any business with the wretched purebloods. The ones he was supposed to be socializing with were spoiled and hypocritical - something that Sirius really couldn't stand. And there was his 'dark education'. His parents were preparing him for the service to the Dark Lord and made him practice the dark arts, made him torture and kill muggles from a rather young age. Sirius had always had a violent streak in him, he wasn't the one to miss an opportunity to fight and shed a little blood, only he couldn't make a sport out of it, torturing was something that he could never really enjoy. And when he met James Potter, he found a reason to openly define his family, having the Potter house's full support.

Although his parents were angry with him and were quite disappointed with his choices, they hadn't rejected him even when he was sorted into gryffindor and even when he stopped practicing the arts and refused to serve. Only when he ran away and joined the Order was he disowned and his name was blasted from the family tree tapestry. Regulus, however, was more understanding. He took the dark mark instead of his older brother. Sirius was devastated when he heard the news of Regulus' death. The body was never found but the small skull with crossed bones appeared next to his name on the family tree and that was proof enough. It was one of the many reasons why he hated Voldemort - he was certain that the monster killed his brother like a dog, for the poor service. But now, after 12 years spent in Azkaban, and with most of his friends and relatives dead, all that was left here for him were Harry and the Black heritage, and he decided to embrace that. Harry asked if Sirius would continue to be a member of the Order - Sirius decided against it, saying he didn't want to have Dumbledore messing with his and Harry's lives again.

A few days later Harry received a letter from Voldemort. He and Sirius were having lunch at the Diagon Alley - something that Harry enjoyed immensely. Sirius scared off all the fans and idlers and for the first time in years Harry could finally spend some quality time outside. Sirius, for his part, was also enjoying the outside, in fact, when Harry offered, they began going out every day, into both wizarding and muggle worlds. Sirius missed the freedom and the fresh air and Harry was only happy to indulge him. Copper was getting acquainted with Sirius while Harry read.

_Brat,_

_In two days you are to come to the base for the first death eaters' gathering. The portkey is included, it will be activated at noon. If you won't show up - you're dead._

_the Dark Lord_

The man should really stop promising to kill Harry, since he couldn't really do it. Harry shook his head, laughing at that, and took a look at the portkey - it was Copper's pinkish feather.

Back at Grimmaud's Harry was slowly cleaning his room and trying to sort out the things that were to be thrown out. There was a lot of old useless textbooks, clothes, toys and souvenirs and house attributes. Harry left the slytherin banner in its place, to simply irritate Sirius. He was going through the bureau's drawers when he found one of them to be locked and warded. Breaking the protections with the wandless parsel-spell, Harry opened it and gasped. The wave of familiar dark aura washed over him and filled his lungs depriving him of breathing. He reached for the horcrux, that turned out to be a small golden locket with a carved S on it. Salazar Slytherin's heirloom. What was the horcrux doing in Regulus room unprotected? Did Voldemort gave it to the man for the safe keeping? If so, then Regulus seriously failed. Harry put the locket around his neck and hid it under the shirt. Yet another present for the Dark Lord.

**xxx**

Two days later Harry sat in the library, twirling the feather portkey in his hands, waiting for the minutes till noon to pass by. Sirius wasn't happy when Harry told him where he was going, but didn't say anything. Harry was grateful. Wen the clock struck twelve he felt the strong pulling and lost the sense of place, time and his body in particular. It felt like squeezing through a narrow tube, yet blowing up all of a sudden. His feet landed firmly on the stone floor and he almost collapsed into the wall. Regaining consciousness and stopping himself from falling, Harry took in the place he arrived at. It was a spacious hall, quite ancient by the look of the stones, bare of any furniture or decorations. The only thing that was in here was the high throne, placed on a platform. Old and a bit rusty, it looked regal and pompous, with all that black shining leather and snake-arms carved in dark wood. Yes, this was something only Voldemort would sit on, Harry smirked.

He heard the doors behind him open and turned to see the Dark Lord. Harry widened his eyes in surprise at the man, who didn't quite look like the man at all, more like a snake. He looked like the ugly face in the back of Quirrell's head. His body was even thinner, than usual, the skin was white and scaled; the face, as intimidating as possible, was angular and looked somewhat distorted. The nose was almost gone, living two long slits instead of the nostrils; lips were barely visible, pursed tightly into a straight line. Only his eyes were the same, the shining blood red ones. Harry blinked at him a few times and hastily fell on his knees and kissed the hem of the thick black robe.

"My Lord," he whispered, not looking up.

"Are you scared of me, little one?" he heard the same deep beautiful voice, that took on a slight hissing.

"No, my lord, I am simply surprised," Harry looked up and saw the smirk appear on the snake-like face.

"This is what the Lord Voldemort looked like before, this is what he is going to look like now as well. My human face would be seen only by the most loyal ones, who are yet to prove themselves... and by the lucky ones, like you," he sneered at Harry and strode past him to the throne, "Stand up and come closer."

Harry obeyed and walked to the seated Dark Lord and bowed his head. Voldemort looked him over. The boy had grown, was even taller now. He would probably be even taller then his father was. His copper hair reached down a little past his shoulders. His green orbs were now of a lighter hue, closer to the color of Avada Kedavra - the boy had been practicing a lot of dark magic, obviously. His soft feminine face began to roughen a little. It was a pleasant sight, a very pleasant sight indeed. Voldemort never really found any interest in his followers' appearance, since they all were pureblood and automatically were beautiful and presentable. But looking at the ickle Lestrange now, the Dark Lord thought that it would be very satisfying for him to have such a lovely boy as his servant. Yes, he felt like wanting to show off. What a foreign yet lovely feeling, almost tickling.

"Today all my followers would present themselves," he finally spoke, "Those who are still loyal, of course. You would be hidden amongst them and we would not yet inform anybody of your serving and of your heritage. They still think Harry Potter to be the enemy and let them keep on thinking that. I will reveal you and your true identity when the time comes. Now, you would need your temporary death eater robes, would you not," and with that Voldemort waved his white wand at the air and conjured a hooded black robe and a white skull-like mask, "Put them on, they will arrive any minute now."

Harry did as he was told. The mask covered his face almost completely, leaving only his lips visible. The eye sockets were deep and hooded so his eyes were barely perceptible. Voldemort nodded, satisfied.

"Now, tell me, does anybody else know of your true parentage besides Severus?"

"Lucius Malfoy knows," Voldemort nodded at that and waved for Harry to go and stand further away, for the doors of the hall opened and the black cladded figures began filling the place.

In a matter of a few minutes Harry found himself amidst, what seemed like, a hundred people. They all hurriedly fell on their knees and laid their heads on the floor, echoing a nervous and frightened 'My Lord' across the hall. Harry followed their example. He noticed that they all had different masks of different origin. The majority wore white porcelain masks like his own, then there were two dozen wearing silver masks and only a few were hidden behind the masks of gold. Voldemort watched them impassively, looking bored to death. Finally, when it seemed like everybody arrived, he stood up and stepped down closer to the crowd.

"My faithful followers, today you bare witness to my great return. I never died, contrary to your belief, and I am very angry, now that I am back. None of you came looking for me, not one of you tried to find me, you all went on living, forgetting the cause, our cause," the man, despite hissing quietly, did sound furious and menacing, Harry mused. Some torture was in order, of that he was sure.

"You have all disappointed me greatly. You will have to work very hard to gain my favor back. I have grand plans for my coming back into the wizarding world and taking back what's mine. You are now working for me, and I would not tolerate disobedience. When you entered you were bound by the oath, you won't be able to tell anybody that I am back until I give you my permission. Tomorrow each one of you will come back here and report to me. I need information about what have you been doing these past ten years. Every little detail. Everyone except the Inner Circle dismissed," he waved his hand and sat back onto his throne. He gestured for Harry to stay and disillusioned him with a flick of his wand. The death eaters all but ran out of the hall, their eyes blazing in fear. Pathetic, Harry thought. When only a few men were left behind, the doors closed with a loud thud and the golden masked death eaters fell to their knees once more.

"Lucius," Voldemort hissed gently, caressing the name. Malfoy, whose distinct long blond hair could be seen behind the mask, stood up, left the line and lowered himself down on one knee before his master and kissed the hem of his robe. The Dark Lord sneered at him.

"Rise, Lucius, my little slimy friend. I have found out something very disturbing, Lucius," he sounded cold and distant, and the blonde swallowed audibly, visibly nervous, "When I gave you some of my precious artifacts for the safe keeping, my precise instructions were to keep them safe, not use them for your personal vendetta, Lucius," Voldemort bit out the last words in disgust. Malfoy looked shaken to the core.

"The journal, Lucius, the little black journal that you so foolishly planted into the hands of the Weasleys, was never meant to leave your manor. Not only had you disobeyed my orders, but you also put me in danger. What have you to say, hm?"

Lucius was silent, he simply fell down on the floor, his body trembling, knowing perfectly well what was going to happen.

"I thought so. Crucio!"

Listening blissfully to high pitched screams, Harry thought that Voldemort's darkness couldn't be more intoxicating then it was now. The bizarre accord of pleasure and fury tickled on Harry's nerves and sent little shock waves though his body. If this was going to happen at every meeting that they held, then Harry was ready to move in with the man to simply always be in the presence of his darkness. Malfoy thrashed on the floor for good forty seconds before the curse was cancelled. The blonde, whimpering, slowly crawled back in the line, unable to stand.

"It's not over yet, Lucius. I will save you for the dessert. Now, Avery, what have you been up to lately?"

He tortured every one of them for the next twenty minutes, leaving them broken and crying on the floor. It was evident that they all have led peaceful lives during the last ten years and clearly lost their stamina and ability to withstand the pain. They were weak and the Dark Lord was very disappointed. The last in the line of the Inner Circle was Severus Snape. He calmly approached his master, kneeled and kissed the robes.

"Severusss," Voldemort intoned, "It's good to see you. I thought you would not come, now that you work for the Light. A skillful spy you are, Severus, you fooled me once. But no more. You know what is the traitor's fate, don't you?"

"Yes, my lord," Severus was deadly calm, he was prepared to die. He had the whole year to think about his future and decided that if he were to follow his heart, then he would side with the dark once again and forever. If he had to die, he would die under the Dark Lord's wand, not in the Azkaban cell as the dementors' dinner.

"However," Voldemort tapped his chin with his index finger, looking wistful, "You are a very powerful wizard, a talented potions master, you are rather valuable. Besides, we both know how useful you are while being at Hogwarts, and someone desires to see you live another day," at that he pointedly looked at Harry, who gulped in surprise. He never told Voldemort how he felt about his teacher, but, apparently, the Dark Lord made his own conclusions judging by all the help that professor Snape had provided him with.

"So, Severus, tell me, who do you serve?"

"I serve you and the dark, my lord," Severus said. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Harry was there, was watching the scene. And he knew that Harry was the only reason he was still breathing.

"And what vow did Dimbledore make you give? Are you bound to him? You can't have two masters, you know that," Voldemort inquired, raising a non-existent eyebrow at the man kneeled before him.

"I refused to be bound to Dumbledore, but had to bind myself to the Light in order to survive, my lord. I gave an Unbreakable Vow to protect Harry Potter with my life," Harry caught his breath at that. Professor Snape was bound to him by the unbreakable vow? This was... unexpected.

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed cruelly at that. Who would have thought? Snape was bound to him, twice now, through the mark and through the boy. This was too good to be true. He shook his head, still chuckling, his lipless mouth stretched in a parody of a smile.

"My, Severus, such a fortunate turn of events! You have just gained your life back. Now, I want you to keep up with your spying at Hogwarts. I know you are still a member of the Order and you will deliver me information about their activities. And you will be watching the Potter brat. Understood?" Severus could only bow his head at that. Harry Potter who he was supposed to save, saved him instead. He closed his eyes knowing that he wouldn't leave unscarred, "Good, now that we've covered that, I think I should remind you just how merciful your true master is. Crucio!"

To Severus' credit he never screamed.

When all the death eaters were able to stand on their feet again, they reported about the developments that were made through the years in the wizarding world. Voldemort listened attentively, nodding and gesturing at words. When they were done, one of them, Harry thought his name was McNair, tentatively addressed his lord.

"My lord, but what of Harry Potter? Snape is teaching the brat, he could bring him to you any time and you could get rid of him!"

"McNair, your eagerness is admirable. I want you all to know that Potter is no threat to me anymore, don't worry about him. We have much more important things to do and plans to consider."

The death eaters shared a bewildered look but complied. Voldemort beckoned Malfoy forward once more and without any warning crucioed him, holding him down bleeding and screaming for a whole minute. When he canceled the curse, he gestured to the others to get Malfoy out, dismissing everyone. They bowed low and were gone in a moment. When they left, Harry canceled the invisibility charm on himself and stared at Voldemort, who was smiling viciously, in glee. He stood up and walked over to Harry, still smiling, which looked rather horrifying.

"Come, we have some things to discuss," and he glided out of the hall, Harry behind him. They walked through the long dark corridors, turning left and right and finally arrived to the furthest part of the fortress. Harry could feel the parsel-wards around them. As soon as they walked into a well lit and rather comfortable corridor, covered in wood instead of stone, Voldemort dropped his intimidating glamour and looked once again his young and attractive self. He strode into what looked like a study and gestured for Harry to enter as well. The room wasn't very big but had enough space to hold a fireplace, a sofa, a desk and a few armchairs. The walls were covered in books from the very floor to the very ceiling, Harry couldn't really see the bookcases behind the spines of the different tomes. He was turning his head around in awe. Voldemort smirked at that and lowered himself into the armchair behind his desk, visibly relaxing. Harry couldn't help but notice, that he, in fact, was in the man's private quarters and the man felt comfortable enough around him to slump in the chair. Well, didn't Harry feel special now.

"So, little one, what do you think?" Voldemort asked, apparently, having the meeting in mind.

"It was very interesting and exciting," Harry said, smiling at him. He wanted to add that it was also very pleasing if not arousing but decided to keep these thoughts to himself. However, Voldemort knew exactly how Harry felt about it.

"I see," he smirked arrogantly at the boy, "Soon, you will become a rightful participant of our meetings and will get your fair share of everything. Speaking of which, you are still to be punished for your cheek."

"And what if I have an ace in my sleeve?" Harry smirked back and Voldemort raised his eyebrows at that.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Say I did something that will leave me unpunished tonight, as a reward," he flashed a toothy smile at the Dark Lord, twirling his porcelain mask playfully in his hands.

"And what might have you done to earn such a reward?" sarcasm was dripping from every word that came out of Voldemort's mouth.

"Oh, but I found yet another horcrux of yours! In the Black's house of all places!"

"WHAT?!" Voldemort sprung up to his feet, fast as a lightning, and towered over Harry, his blood red eyed burning in rage.

"Well," Harry began calmly, not at all impressed by the man's antics, "I was cleaning up in Regulus Black's old room when I found your slytherin locket in one of the drawers, poorly warded," at that Harry reached under his shirt and pulled out the locket, holding it high on the golden chain, right in front of the Voldemort's angry face, "I figured if you'd given it to the man for the safe keeping, he'd do a better job then that. So I took it to give it back to you later."

Voldemort was watching the boy talking like they were discussing the weather. His rage loosened and he lowered his tensed shoulders and sighed in exasperation. The brat got lucky once again. And Regulus was even luckier, for had he lived, he would have died this very moment. Voldemort carefully took the locket off of Harry and put it into his pocket instead. He sat down in the chair, massaging his temples in ire and exhaustion.

"So, I suppose it wasn't meant to be where it was," Harry said quietly, watching the man worriedly.

"No," Voldemort bit out, "It was supposed to be hidden in the bloody cave, in the middle of the bloody sea full of bloody inferi. I never thought that somebody, Regulus Black of all people, would get so close to my secret by stealing one of the horcruxes. He's lucky he's dead!" if only looks could kill, Harry mused, watching the fuming Dark Lord.

"Did you kill him?"

"No. He was missing for almost a year before I was forced out of my body. I suppose he died there in the cave, while retrieving the locket. Serves him right, the bastard he was," Voldemort looked very grim and dangerous. Harry decided he would be tortured anyway, just to let the man lessen his tension. Damn.

"Fine," the man suddenly hissed, "You got your reward, I won't torture you today. Use the feather to go back. The activation word is 'home'."

He waved at Harry impatiently, dismissing him, already lost in his heavy and dark thoughts, brooding. Not trying his luck any longer, Harry left the study and activated the portkey. He landed in the Black library right in time for dinner with Sirius.

**xxx**

The month passed in a flash. Harry and Sirius developed a kind and tentative friendship and both were very pleased with each other. Harry finished all his homework and had nothing else to do but to read every book there was in the Black library. He concluded that by his seventh year at Hogwarts he would manage to read all the books there were. His mindscape was now complete, and he hid his memories and new found knowledge in the stones, herbs, flowers and magical creatures that inhabited his mind's dark forest.

Sirius wanted Harry to have a birthday party, but when Harry told him that the only guests he could invite were death eaters' children, the idea was immediately forgotten. Harry simply offered to go out, just the two of them, and enjoy themselves. Two days before his birthday Harry received two letters. One from Dumbledore and one from Voldemort. He opened the headmaster's letter first. He laughed very hard when he finished it and ran to Sirius to read the contents aloud. The old coot had the nerve to inform Harry, that a party for his Birthday had already been planned at the Burrow and that he was expected to show up at 4 o'clock. He would offend everyone if he declines. Sirius could only curse at that. He told Harry that it was his decision but if he were in his place, he would have sent them a jinxed thank you letter in return and never showed up. Taking the adult's advice close to the heart, Harry did just that. Voldemort's letter, though, was a surprise. The man demanded his presence at the marking of the new followers. Now, that Harry wasn't going to miss. He was to come at lunch time, so he and Sirius still had a whole morning to enjoy themselves.

**xxx**

On the 31st of july Harry felt full and content. Sirius took him to a muggle fun center, where they spent some quality time playing and attending different attractions, throwing money around like confetti, and eating and eating. Sirius let Harry taste a few alcoholic beverages. They ate so much ice-cream that the poor lord of the most ancient and noble house of Black had covered the crowd around them in his vomit, throwing up violently. All in all they were satisfied.

Harry almost missed the activation of the portkey, that he received with the last letter. He was squeezed and pulled into the fortress' hall again. He had his temporary robes and mask on. Voldemort, already glamoured, waved for him to stand at the wall. When all the other death eaters arrived, they formed a semi circle around their master's throne, sorted by rank. Harry stood in the back but had a clear view of the throne and a small clearing in front of it. They all kneeled and stayed in that position. Voldemort gestured for a few unmasked men, whom Harry hadn't seen before, to line up in the clearing. When they did, he beckoned each one of them closer to his side. Each man would kneel, kiss his robe and give the Dark Lord a magical vow, promising to serve him faithfully, to bind their life to his will, to give him anything he could ask of them. Voldemort would take their left unclothed arm and hiss in parsel 'Morsmordre' pointing the wand at the skin. Thus, a mark would appear on their skin, making them scream and shudder in pain, as the dark venom would travel down their veins and soak right into their magical core. It all took but ten minutes and the new recruits were to enjoy themselves along with the death eaters at the base. People slowly spread out into the fortress, chatting in groups, drinking and playing card games. Harry and Voldemort, however, stayed in the hall. As did Severus and Lucius. Both men stood behind their master's throne, looking lost.

Harry was looking at the Dark Lord carefully. The man was silent. He simply sat on his throne and watched Harry, searching his unmasked face for something. When it became truly ridiculous, Harry stood straighter and spoke up.

"My lord?"

Voldemort perked up at that and looked at Harry with a suspicious glee in his laughing cruel eyes, "Come closer, child."

When Harry was only a few inches away from him, the Dark Lord leaned forward and, looking Harry straight in the eyes, hissed, "It is your birthday, today, little one, is it not?"

Harry could only nod at that weakly, scared all of a sudden. Out of the corner of his eye he could see both Severus and Lucius tensed and held their breaths. No, that didn't look good, not at all.

"Ah, but I have a gift for you, my little one, a very precious gift, worthy of the Lord Lestrange," and with that, before Harry could move away, Voldemort grabbed his left arm, tore his sleeve and, pushing the end of his wand painfully into the gentle skin, hissed, "Vow yourself to me, bind your life to my will, give me everything you have!" his voice trembled though.

Harry and Voldemort never shared another physical contact after the last time, and now that strange and fierce rush of power overwhelmed them both, making their darkness shudder and pour outside in a whirlpool of pleasure and longing. Harry's body shook with the strength of his darkness leaking, he couldn't tear his gaze from the blood red eyes of his already master, lord, soul, life. Voldemort had already had him whole and now he simply wanted to mark him, to show everyone that Harry belonged to him. Harry didn't like that idea, he wasn't a kettle, he didn't need a seal to remind him who his true master was, but emotions that he was experiencing through their skin on skin contact were too much, they clouded his mind and possessed his body and his will. Voldemort was breathing heavily, digging his wand deeper and deeper into the boy's skin, the blood running down the pierced arm. He was burning inside and all he wanted was to simply take the boy and ravish him, make him bleed, make him scream in pain and pleasure under Voldemort's body.

Their entangled darkness spread out into the hall and both Severus and Lucius had to take a few steps aside, pushed away by the invisible force. Severus was terrified to see the wicked incontrollable lust and want in his master's burning eyes, but Harry's eyes scared him even more. The boy looked drugged, possessed, full of lust and need. No child should and could have experienced such emotions at the tender age of 13, it was self-distruction. But Severus couldn't do anything to stop this madness, even if he tried. The combined magic of those two was a terrible too powerful a force to fight it. Harry and Voldemort sat, lost in the eyes of each other, while Harry's blood kept running, dripping down on Voldemort's hand that was squeezing the boy's arm.

"I am yours," was all that Harry could make his numb tongue pronounce. And that was enough. His blood and their magic completed the vow and Voldemort hissed the incantation absentmindedly, still boring into the green eyes. When the pain of the venom shot through Harry's body, Voldemort had to let go of his hand, for the pain was shared between the two of them as well. Harry fell back on the floor, clutching his left blooded arm, and his body jerked violently. He greeted his teeth trying hard not to scream. A single soft moan escaped his lips as the pain stopped abruptly and he fell silent and still. Severus' first instinct was to run to the boy but he was stopped by the Dark Lord's darkness that was still lingering in the hall.

Voldemort, exhausted, dropped his glamour, to the two death eaters' shock, and kneeled down beside Harry. The boy's eyes were glazed but were watching him intently. The Dark Lord gently pushed a few copper locks away from Harry's face and caressed his cheek with his fingertips, the feeling of content and pleasure shooting through his skin. Harry leaned into the touch with a small sigh. Voldemort took him into his lap and put his arms around the boy's thin body, pushing him tightly to his chest. Harry, suddenly sober at the close and unfamiliar contact, for he had never been hugged before by another human being, looked up into his master's face. Voldemort was smiling his little secret smile, that only Harry could see. Harry reached up with his hand and pushed the Dark Lords disheveled hair behind his ear.

"You are mine, little one, you are mine, forever," Voldemort whispered and kissed the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead. He apparated them away into his study, leaving the gobsmacked Severus and Lucius behind.

**xxx**

They sat in Voldemort's study, Harry still in his master's lap, in a warm hesitant embrace. Voldemort never hugged anybody before, not used to a physical contact. But all these new and foreign emotions that were circulating through his body made him want to take the boy into his arms. He needed to feel him, to touch him, to know that he was safe. Perhaps their binding ritual strengthened their soul connection, Voldemort mused. Two pieces of one soul longed for each other and forced them into close contact. And blood they shared, as in any blood magic ritual, affected them both strongly as well. It wasn't his intention to bind Harry by blood tonight again, it wasn't necessary. But now, it seemed, they were bound in all three possible magics: vowing magic, soul magic and blood magic.

The Dark Lord realized some time ago that the overwhelming power of their shared emotions was the result of a mental connection that formed between them. While Harry, due to his tender age and little experience, didn't feel that connection just yet, Voldemort was able to experience all Harry's strong emotions if he lowered his occlumency shields. And that was exactly what happened down in the hall. They both left their minds unprotected and let their connection create chaos. And yet, besides all these feelings, that the Dark Lord really despised, he noticed that their power also grew, and combined, their magic was unstoppable. Now that was a serious matter to consider. When the boy grew up and developed his skills, together they would know no limits to what they could do. Only a few years of waiting was left. Voldemort decided he would be patient. Lost in thought, he barely heard Harry speaking.

"I've never felt anything like this before, even torturing and killing wasn't close," he said softly, almost to himself. His head was resting on the Dark Lord's shoulder, while his fingers draw pattens on the fabric of the man's robe. Voldemort looked down at him incredulously, silently signaling to elaborate.

"Back in the Chamber I tortured one of my teachers with cruciatus. I had had my first orgasm then, can you believe it? - Harry smiled and sighed into the man's shoulder, "And I thought that it was the highest I could get, emotionally and physically. I finished him with Avada Kedavra. I never felt better in my life before... this."

Voldemort watched Harry curiously. The boy was developing fast. And that must have been then that he first felt their connection. Yes, that was it.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked and looked up at his master, looking serious again.

"What?"

"Marked me? I am too young, you said it yourself."

"I wanted to do it and so I did it, - was the Dark Lord's simple answer, "I am a very possessive man, you should have known that by now, and you belong to me. So I decided to mark you. You are mine and mine alone. You are my horcrux, my servant. The mark is a gift. While it binds and enslaves you, it also connects you to me, we will always be able to find each other through the mark. It is something you should wear with pride."

"And Hogwarts, how will I hide it?" Harry knew Voldemort was just showing him off, whatever the man said.

"A simple parsel-glamour would hide it from everybody. Others can't do anything to the mark, since it is a parsel-magic, but you can. You can't destroy it, though."

"I see," he shifted in his master's lap and bit his lower lip, considering his next question, "Why did you... kiss me and now hugging me?"

"If you don't like it I can always drop you down on the floor," Voldemort rose an imperious eyebrow and moved his body, seemingly going to actually drop the boy, but Harry shook his head vehemently and pressed closer into him. The Dark Lord only smirked at him, "Well, as for the kiss: again, I wanted to kiss your scar and I did. There isn't always a reason behind every action," with that he kissed Harry's scar once again. Something close to a little electric shock shot through his lips, making his insides squirm in pleasure. He sighed inwardly. It wouldn't do to grow attached to the boy. Attachments led to weaknesses. No, that would be enough for now.

Voldemort slowly rose and put Harry down on his feet. The boy sighed sadly and reluctantly stepped away. There were two pink spots on his high cheekbones. The boy seemed so innocent sometimes, the Dark Lord couldn't imagine how Harry hadn't ended up in somebody's bed already. He pushed these thoughts away and pulled a piece of parchment out of the drawer and gave it to Harry. It was a portkey. Harry silently took it and, whispering the activation word, vanished from the sight. Only then did Voldemort noticed that his robe was wet, soaked with the boy's blood.


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, murder, sexual theme._

_A/N: I would like to thank you all for your kind reviews, I am flattered and appreciate your attention to my story very much. And for everybody who asked about the pairing: I think it is going to be HP/LV after all. For I simply can't resist the charm of the cunning Dark Lord. I have an idea for an AU story about Tom, so I'm wondering whether any of you are interested. I think it would be centered more on his life and his career, his persona... I only have a few short sketches so far, but excited to develop it into a long story. Nevertheless, I am continuing with the current one. Thank you all, once again._

* * *

Harry landed hard in the dark hall of Grimmauld's. He fell back on the floor and lay very still, not really wanting to get up. His left arm was itching and twitching but he paid it no heed. All his thoughts were concentrated on the mark. Branded, like a kettle, he was. And he didn't even know Voldemort's real goals. What was the man actually fighting for? Wiping the muggles from the face of the earth? Ridiculous. Killing all the light wizards? Hypocritical. Harry was supposed to help him, to "heal" him. And here he was, owned and completely clueless. He was only 13, for Salazar's sake. And how would he be able to serve while studying at Hogwarts, under the noses of hundreds of light wizards and witches?

He finally got up and stumbled forward. It wasn't late yet, but the house was eerie quiet. Perhaps, Sirius went out. All the better. Harry passed Walburga's portrait not even noticing her wide eyes, that were staring at his still bleeding arm and the black, black mark, standing out on his naturally pale skin. Leaving a small trail of blood behind him, he tiredly got onto the stairs and proceeded into his room. He didn't hear Walburga calling for Kreacher, telling him to clean up before Sirius saw the mess, and to follow Harry and get rid of all evidence of that he was hurt. Harry simply fell onto his bed and closed his eyes. But sleep didn't come. He tossed and turned but it was futile. He sat up on the bed, irritated. Kreacher hastily approached him and with a snap of his fingers cleaned him up and banished his robes, putting his pajamas on instead. Harry didn't say anything, only frowned at the elf. He looked at his left arm: the mark was practically glowing and reeking of dark magic, the snake, that was coming out of the skull's opened jaws, swayed form side to side, taunting him. A noticeable deep ugly wound was situated right in the middle of the skull's forehead. Harry thought, humorlessly, that it would probably leave a scar in a shape of a lightning bolt. He healed it and fell back on the pillows again, exhausted. He felt hollow inside. And a strange anticipation was nagging him in the back of his mind. His darkness was uncharacteristically calm. Closing his eyes again, for the first time he asked himself if he regretted his choices.

**xxx**

It was just his luck, that Sirius hadn't notice anything. Or at least didn't show that he had. Harry spelled the mark to be invisible and acted like nothing happened. Another week passed by, lacking any exciting events. Sirius kept taking Harry out every day for dinner or for a simple late night walk in the city, they both enjoyed each other's company, sometimes talking for hours, sometimes just sharing a companionable silence. For the first time in his life Harry found himself being comfortable living with someone and actually enjoying another human being immensely. Sirius, although being sometimes a loud and dirty cursing prankster, was quite intelligent and very insightful when it came to the matter of Harry's personal space. He sometimes thought that Sirius must have felt very lonely in his company, but when he confronted him, Sirius only smiled at him softly and said, that after twelve years spent on the verge of insanity, surrounded by mad convicts, he rather liked this new development. He was still getting used to the new living routine and wasn't ready for the close contacts yet. Harry and letters exchanged with Remus Lupin were enough for him for now.

Harry dreaded to go to the Diagon Alley, knowing that if he met the Weasleys there, he would suffer the consequences of his arrogant fit that he threw. He sent Draco a letter, asking the blonde to accompany him early in the morning so that they could just buy all the necessary supplies and get away quickly. Draco agreed. They were to meet the next day at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry hoped that Lucius would be there too - he wanted to talk to him about the mark, about Voldemort... who was suspiciously silent. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. For the last two weeks, since his marking, or recruiting as it was called, he tried very hard to ignore the thoughts about the Dark Lord. He couldn't decide whether he hated him or, in fact, admired him. He respected the man, sure, but still was wary of the man's unpredictable actions. And he was very uncomfortable with his future at Hogwarts, now that he was to serve his master. He sighed again and read the Hogwarts letter one more time. He was ought to send a reply, indicating the new subjects he wanted to take on in his third year. At first he thought he could take all that were offered, for studying was a simple task for him. But then he thought that if he would be sent out on missions, he wouldn't have enough time. He took a parchment and composed a short reply, saying that he would take arithmacy and ancient runes. On one hand, he was curious to take a Divination course, but thinking back on the damned prophecy decided that he had enough of that shit in his life, thank you very much. Giving the letter to Copper, Harry fell back deep into the plushy armchair and continued his brooding. He was interrupted by Sirius, who peeked inside the library to call him for lunch. Harry got up and went downstairs. He decided to stash all of his emotions away behind his mental shields. It wouldn't do him any good being the nervous reck that he was.

Sirius came with Harry to the Pub early next morning and they parted, Sirius going to Gringotts and Harry waiting for Draco to join him. A few minutes later the blonde arrived, accompanied by his mother. Harry didn't show his disappointment and greeted her politely, bowing and kissing her hand respectfully. Narcissa all but crooned over him, receiving jealous glares from her son. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes at that. They quickly proceeded with the shopping, not wasting time, the Malfoys weren't eager to be caught up in the crowd of students either. They soon were done, and Draco dragged Harry to the Knockturne Alley, noting that no redhead would dare to go there to look for him. Harry reluctantly complied. They walked into Borgin & Burke's and Draco tagged his mother to look at the cursed jewelry. Harry slowly proceeded into the shop, looking around with interest.

The place was full of curious, seemingly harmless and mundane things, and a few very dark artifacts as well. He approached the book section. Stroking the leather spines absentmindedly, he suddenly caught a sight of a snake skin cladded book, that looked very old and rarely touched. He pulled it out of the shelf and gasped: it was written in parseltongue. He had never encountered parsel books before. He shifted through the pages - it was a book about the origins of parsel-magic and contained a lot of spells and rituals. Harry clutched it close to his chest and strode to the counter. The clerk took a look at the book and shot Harry a suspicious and frightened glare. Harry's face remained blank. Of course, only a parselmouth would buy such a book, so the man's reaction was expected. The clerk hesitated a little and then proclaimed that it would cost Harry two hundred galleons. Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, threw one hundred on the counter, gave him a cold glare and hissed harshly, daring the man to protest. The clerk gulped and, mumbling apologies, took the money and wrapped the book with shaking hands. Satisfied, Harry walked over to Malfoys, who were eyeing him curiously. Without further comments, they went out and walked to the Shadow Inn to floo back home.

Later that day Harry started his new precious parsel book. The first chapter was full of legends and myths about the parsel communities of the past. But then it went on with the Salazar Slytherin's story and Harry was surprised to learn that the Chamber of Secrets was, actually, Salazar's private quarters, where he could perform his experiments, hidden from the prying eyes. The book also said, that Salazar hid his personal library in one of the Chamber's tunnels. Harry raised his eyebrows at that in disbelief - Anguis never told him about the library. How was it possible? The basilisk surely knew about it, but why hadn't he told Harry? Harry narrowed his eyes at the book. He would confront Anguis and wouldn't hesitate to torture the snake if it came to this. He wasn't going to loose an opportunity to share Salazar's precious knowledge. He angrily snapped the book closed and huffed, irritated. He noted to himself, suddenly, that he was often very moody as of late. He needed to practice the dark arts, his darkness was hungry. It wasn't affecting him physically as much as it used to, but possessed his emotions instead, and occlumency didn't really help.

**xxx**

On the 1st of September Harry stood on the platform, next to one of the Hogwart's express' carriages. Sirius was seeing him off and, surprisingly, Harry found himself in the same ridiculous position as everybody else around him - Sirius suddenly embraced him tightly, giving him a sheepish smile. Harry stiffened at first, but then relaxed into his arms with a small sigh. He didn't really want to admit it to himself, but he was going to miss his godfather. He never missed anyone before. He didn't know whether this new development was good or not. They broke the contact and just stood there, looking at each other.

"I will miss you, Harry," Sirius finally said. Harry shrugged at him.

"I will miss you too, I guess."

Sirius beamed and moved to hug him again, but Harry ducked under his arms and smacked him on the shoulder playfully.

"Stop that, I'm not some sniveling baby to be fussed over!"

Sirius only laughed and ruffled Harry's long hair affectionately. Harry rolled his eyes at the man and, smiling, waved him off and got into the carriage. He saw the Malfoys come and Sirius immediately apparated away, not ready to face his cousin just yet. Harry shook his head and smiled. Sirius acted very childish sometimes. And Harry found he rather liked that. Draco met him in the corridor and they entered one of the compartments, chatting about the upcoming year. Harry was glad that during the train ride the Weasleys didn't try to seek him out, although his gut told him he would get his fair share at Hogwarts. From Dumbledore as well. It was pathetic, but at that thought Harry dearly wished that Sirius could be there to take the annoying old coot off of his back. So much for being an independent dark wizard.

**xxx**

Who would have thought that Ron would try to throw a fit right at the welcoming feast? The curses went flying almost the very second Harry took a step inside the Great Hall. He ducked, dragging Draco down with him, Blaise and Theo following their example. And then, suddenly, the Hell broke loose. The older snakes took the assault as an excuse for their long desired vengeance on the house of lions. Red and green clashed in a fire, exchanging jinxes and hexes, some of the seventh year snakes even dared to send a few dark curses. All in all it was an absolute chaos and Harry, who had been lying on the floor during all this, could only stare. Ron got caught up in a fist fight with the slytherin quiddich player and was losing, painfully. The teachers at the Head Table all but froze in shock, unable to move.

It was Severus, who stood up a few seconds later and threw a deafening crack at the fighting crowd. What kind of spell it was nobody knew, but the sound was loud enough to make everyone stop and turn to look at the furious professor. Slytherins retreated immediately, ashamed and subdued under the heavy unforgiving glare of their Head of the House. They would suffer the consequences and for all they knew - they were doomed. Gryffindors had audacity to sneer at the snakes in triumph, rubbing the blood off their beaten faces all the while. Harry and Draco graciously stood up from the floor and strode to their table, looking for all the world like nothing had happened. During the whole ordeal, both huffpuffs and ravens sat underneath their tables, which Harry found hilarious and pathetic at the same time. Ron was shooting him hateful looks.

Finally, Dumbledore stood up and, still looking flabbergasted, said, "This is the most outrageous and shameful scene I had ever witnessed at Hogwarts," he sounded sincerely sad and somewhat subdued, "I could never imagine that something... as that," he waved his hand at the red and and green tables, "Would ever occur. I must admit, I am... so very disappointed," he shook his head tiredly.

"Well, in any case, it was lucky the sorting hadn't started yet so our first years didn't have to witness this disaster. So, before we proceed, I would like to warn both the gryffindor and the slytherin houses, that every student who had raised his wand tonight, would be punished. I will let the heads of your houses decide what to do with you all. As for my part, I think that confiscating your wands for a month would be quite effective," and with that, with a flick of his wrist, all the wands of the students who fought flew into his and Severus' hands. Harry's wand was one of them. Harry sighed. Well, the year just couldn't have started better, and all thanks to that stupid redheaded git, who just couldn't keep his wand in his pocket a little longer. Harry would have gladly dueled him later without any witnesses. And now, well... now he didn't know.

And just like that, the feast went on. The first years, who entered the hall gaping at the enchanted ceiling, didn't seem to notice the strained expressions on the student's faces. After a traditional uneventful sorting everything seemed to turn back to normal, as if nothing happened. Harry was looking at his housemates. Something felt amiss. No snake would have ever acted like that, especially since the situation was the opposite of the one that could have been taken advantage of. The longer he pondered at that, the more unbelievable it seemed. Perhaps, it was somebody else's doing? A cruel prank? A well-planned revenge? It looked like they all were under some spell, for the students who fought looked completely lost now, drugged. Someone of the older years' threw up. Harry frowned. Who could have done something like that?

It was time to leave for their dormitories, when He felt the potion's master heavy hand on his shoulder. He looked up - thankfully, professor Snape didn't seem angry with Harry. He squeezed his shoulder and jerked his head at the approaching headmaster, indicating that Harry was to go with the old coot. Weasley walked besides Dumbledore with his head hanging low in shame. As he should be, Harry inwardly huffed. He stood up and joined them. They went to the headmaster's office.

Harry sat at the desk facing the headmaster, Ron next to him, they both ignored each other and while the redhead was looking hopefully into Dumbledore's pale blue eyes, Harry kept picking his fingernails, fascinated with the sight. After a long silence Dumbledore sighed heavily and gave Harry a perplexed look.

"I must admit, Harry, I thought it was you who initiated the fight, but Severus told me that you were, in fact, the victim. Now, Ron, my boy, why did you attack Harry?" he didn't really look interested in the redhead's answer, watching Harry all the time. Ron sat up at that.

"Professor, I didn't mean to, I hadn't intended to... I mean, I was so angry at Harry for his rude letter and him ignoring the party we prepared for him, as if he never lived with us, as if we were some strangers, really! But I never..." he trailed off and reddened in shame. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"If I may, headmaster? I think that somebody did this intentionally, somebody managed to drug or curse the lions and the snakes into the fight. Perhaps, it was a prank that went too far, I am not sure, but my housemates acted uncharacteristically. They are scared and don't really realized what happened," Harry drawled, still looking at his fingernails.

"And who do you think would have done something like that?" actually Dumbledore was having the same suspicions, only he, at first, thought that Harry was behind it. It was something that Sirius would have surely done, after all.

"Someone from one of the two houses, who could gain something from our rivalry. Although, I am certain none of the slytherins would have, not in such a way," he shrugged.

"So you find it to be a cruel joke, then?"

"It is possible," Harry admitted.

"I see. Alright then. Mr Weasley, please, go to professor McGonagall. She is waiting for you. Mr Potter, stay behind."

Ron looked confused but obeyed. He expected to be shouted at or at least chided, but none of that happened. He silently left. Harry shifted in his chair and turned to look at the portraits who were eyeing him curiously. Dumbledore stapled his fingers and gazed at Harry pensively.

"Harry, why did you so rudely declined an invitation to your birthday party? Molly and Arthur worked hard to arrange it for you."

"Professor, I am grateful to them for letting me stay the summer, but I don't owe them anything, since they were payed for housing me. Besides, you can't just make somebody come to a party if the person is not interested. You see, I don't celebrate my birthdays, never had and never planned to anyway. Sirius and I spent the day together, like a family should, and enjoyed ourselves. I am sorry that the Weasleys had worked so hard in vain, but I never asked for that. And to be honest it is rather strange to prepare a party for someone without asking beforehand," Harry couldn't hide his ire. All these people meddling with his life.

"Harry, I really can't see why it was necessary to jinx the letter? I am afraid Sirius is a very bad influence," Dumbledore stroke his beard and watched Harry expectantly. He heard the comment about paying the Weasleys, but feigned ignorance. How had he found out? That Sirius again!

"He's alright, professor, and I am sorry for the jinx, but I don't like when something is being forced on me."

"Well, it is a matter of respect and mere politeness, as I see it," headmaster sounded irritated.

Harry humphed and looked down at his feet. How long would he have to endure this torture?

"We shall speak about it again, Harry. Now, I think, it is time for bed. Goodnight, my boy," Albus dismissed him and watched Harry's back as the boy quickly strode out of the office. Whoever played this prank, was probably aiming for Harry, for the boy wasn't the troublemaker that Albus always expected him to be, in fact, Harry seemed to avoid any conflicts and appeared apathetic to the world, immersed into his own persona and mind. Dumbledore shook his head and tiredly rubbed his eyes: the boy wasn't showing any kinds of dark magic yet, so, probably, the jinxed letter was all that Sirius could teach him do. Dumbledore always thought that Black would break and submit to his true dark nature, and after he returned from Azkaban, he was already showing the first signs... All that Albus could hope for is that the man wouldn't taint Harry. The boy was powerful, judging by his accomplishments at the school, but Dumbledore could never feel his magic, could never see his light aura. It confused him, however, if he really was abused by the Dursleys, then, perhaps, it was a defensive mechanism of his magic. It wasn't unheard of, yet it was unusual. But he decided to let go of it for the time being.

He invited Remus Lupin to teach DADA this year, hoping that the kind-hearted werewolf would help to bring Harry to the Light's side. As far as he knew, Remus and Sirius didn't communicate, as Lupin told him himself, that he was ashamed to ever suspect his best friend and never do anything to help him, and that he feared Sirius didn't want to do anything with him anymore. That was fortunate and he wanted to use it to his benefit. Lupin was to arrive early the next day. And now he could think on who exactly had played the prank. He already had two candidates in his mind.

Instead of his bed Harry went straight to Severus' office. The man wasn't there, probably scaring his snakes shitless. Yes, Harry thought he could hear roaring from their common room. It was very rare that professor actually shouted, preferring to send students into cold sweat by speaking lowly and menacingly, but today was an exceptional day indeed. Harry smirked and left, heading for their common room. Nobody was present, only the professor stood in front of the information board, writing something vehemently. Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Ah, Mr Potter, you are to spend your month detention with the new DADA professor on the headmaster's orders," the man sneered at the board, as if it was the cause of all his problems.

"And who is the new professor?"

"Your godfather's pet werewolf," he hissed, disgusted. Harry was surprised. Sirius never told him. However, now that he thought about it, Sirius did look suspiciously gleeful when reading one of the Lupin's last letters. The man was insufferable.

"I see, well, I hope that doesn't mean I will have to help him get rid of the fleas."

Professor snorted at that and shook his head, disgust still written on his face.

"Anyway, you are lucky, your detention is for a month only. I don't want to know what you did to Weasley that led to this atrocity, but, please, do refrain from repeating it again in the future. Your position is even more precarious now," at that he looked at Harry's left arm pointedly, "Which I find very disturbing. We never had a chance to talk about it and right now is not the time and place to do so. But we will discuss this," he said harshly. With a goodbye nod he left. Harry went up into his dorm and tiredly prepared himself for bed. Just his rotten luck, nothing else.

**xxx**

Harry couldn't find the time to look for the Slytherin's library yet. He went to see Anguis a few times, but all his visits were short because of everything that happened and he came to a decision to postpone his interrogation of the serpent for later. The chamber wasn't going anywhere and he had a lot of time ahead of him.

**xxx**

Lupin was nothing even close to a werewolf except for his darkness that looked rather grey to Harry, being subdued for so long. Remus was, he decided, originally a light wizard, but the curse tainted him and now he was somewhere in the middle. Their first DADA lessons were quite interesting - the man was an expert in dark creatures and thought it important to learn defense against them. Harry didn't complain, for Lupin was the best they could have had comparing to their previous teachers.

Remus looked older then he actually was, his kind face wore a mask of constant exhaustion. He had been fighting the curse, probably for his whole life, mused Harry. What an awful life he must have led. To fight the inner wolf, in Harry's opinion, was madness. The transformations must have been worse then a cruciatus. The man had a stamina alright, and was much stronger then he seemed. Lupin looked at Harry sometimes, when in class, but never said anything, apparently, trying to find a way to approach the boy. Harry would let the man to make his move first. Sirius wrote him a letter, telling him that he wanted Lupin's employment to be a surprise. He also wrote that he didn't want to force Harry into any relationship with the werewolf, but should he ever need any help or advice he could always turn to him. Harry pondered at that. Lupin could certainly smell his darkness even if it was hidden. So he would probably know Harry's true heritage as well. Harry decided to be careful around the man for the time being. Due to the absence of the wands of most students, the DADA lessons proceeded to be theoretical until the beginning of october.

Harry's detentions with Lupin started after the first week of the new term. The werewolf simply told him to do his homework in his office and tell everybody else that he was scrubbing toilets. At first they used to spent the time in silence, both working on their tasks. Later Lupin began talking to Harry, about his homework, about his previous defense teachers, about his experience in the field. Then, one evening, after finishing his Charms essay, Harry decided to test the waters.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Lupin looked up from the essays he was grading, his eyes deep in the shadows. It was a full moon yesterday.

"Why do you keep fighting the wolf?"

Lupin looked pensive, considering his answer. His thin hands rubbed at each other nervously.

"To be honest, Harry, I am scared of it. I saw what some of the werewolves had become and it doesn't bode well for me. I fear that one day I would jump on somebody and condemn him or her to a horrible fate, and I wouldn't be able to live with that."

"I see," Harry looked down at his hands.

"Aren't you afraid of the darkness inside you?" Lupin suddenly asked, watching Harry carefully, warily.

"I love it, I embrace it, I could have never survived without it."

"And your Master's darkness? Aren't you afraid of it?" werewolf looked at him speculatively. So he could smell the mark's magic as well. Well, Harry would have to ward it from that in future.

"No," was his answer. In truth, he craved for Voldemort's darkness, he still remembered its intoxicating seductiveness. Sometimes his mark would itch and burn a little and he would revel in seconds of the sensation.

"I could never imagine that Lily's son would submit so easily, your mother was notorious for her fierce independent personality. As for your father... well, I never really knew him, I only met him once, in the rush of a battle, so I can't really speculate on his character, but he left an impression of a strong-willed man and a brilliant dueler: scars of his curses never healed on my body despite the regeneration abilities of my organism. But the fact that he also went into the submission to a Master... well, I do not judge you, but I can't say I accept your choices," Lupin was looking at him sadly, regret clear in his eyes.

"There are certain circumstances that led to my submission, and a family trait is not one of them. If you ever met Voldemort in person, you would have understood why so many powerful wizards serve him."

"Perhaps," the werewolf murmured softly and looked at his interlocked fingers, not knowing what to say further.

Harry stood up and bid him goodnight. They never spoke of it again. They spoke of Sirius and Lily, though. Lupin happily shared the stories of their past. Harry never felt anything towards his mother, since he never knew her. But listening to the stories of her youth, he grew to respect her. Lupin found a few photographs of her from Hogwarts years and Harry had to admit that she was beautiful and she really did share a lot of similar facial features with Rabastan, though they looked very different at the first glance.

When they got their wands back, Harry was glad to notice that his had been in Severus' possession, for Dumbledore could have made dangerous conclusions if he'd discovered Harry's unique wood and core accord. The DADA lessons moved on to the practical stage. Lupin paired snakes with lions, mocking them with the reminder of the earlier incident in the great hall. Though Lupin wasn't present, he was amused by Harry's description of the event and admitted that it looked like something that Sirius would have done had he had the chance. But Harry knew his godfather had nothing to do with the prank. Harry still didn't know who was behind it, though he wasn't that interested really. To his credit, Ron stayed away and didn't even spare a look at Harry, which was just fine with the latter.

**xxx**

It was close to the end of October when Lupin brought a bogart to the lesson. He explained what the creature could do and how to defend one's self against it. He lined the students up in front of the old cherry wood closet and instructed them how to proceed. And so during the lesson the bogart had been jumping out of the closet, turning into the student's worst nightmares and fears. They all were quite ordinary. Weasley was afraid of the spiders, Draco almost shitted himself at the sight of the snake (so much for a slytherin, Harry snorted), Longbottom actually fainted at professor Snape. When it was Harry's turn, Lupin stopped him and, dragging him to the side, said that if Harry was curious he could find out later, after the lesson, but not in front of the other students, for it could compromise Harry's secret. And right he was.

Harry visited the DADA professor later that evening. After putting silencing and safety wards on the office, Lupin beckoned him to come closer to the closet. He looked at Harry expectantly and, after a nod from the boy, opened the closet with a wave of his wand. Harry stood straighter, very curious to find out what his biggest fear was. The bogart seemed to be considering him for some time, for there was only a black fog streaming from the closet and onto the floor. Then a tall dark figure slowly rose from the fog, blurry at first. After a while Harry recognized it, or him, to be precise. It was Voldemort. He slowly pushed his hood down and Harry saw the familiar beautiful face with an expression of disdain written on it, the blood red eyes were full of disappointment.

"You are a disappointment, ickle Lestrange," the Dark Lord hissed, "You are not worthy of my attention. You are weak, pathetic, a mere child. I despise you," the man spat and turned his face away in disgust. Harry was watching him with wide eyes. His mind kept telling him that it was just a bloody bogart, but his heart though... His heart was breaking. His chest constricted in a spasm of pain that shot through it. Harry fell on his knees and looked at Voldemort, pleading him with his eyes, desperately wishing for the man to look at him again.

"No, my lord, please, I am worthy, I will make you proud," he croaked, his throat tight and dry, "Please, don't reject me, please. We are one, I am yours, I am yours, my lord!" he howled the last sentence craving for the Dark Lord to at least shout at him, or curse him, anything! But the man's face was still turned away, his posture demonstrating his loath towards Harry.

"Please, I'm yours," Harry whispered desperately and tried to crawl closer to his master. But Lupin banished bogart back into the closet. He watched Harry standing on his fours on the floor, shaking, almost crying, horror written all over his face. But what unnerved the werewolf even more were Harry's eyes, full of longing and hurt. Lupin shivered. The child was craving for the praise and affection from someone who wasn't capable of such feelings.

As an afterthought, Lupin thought about the way Voldemort looked - nothing like he used to, definitely. He didn't look like a monster at all, and that frightened the werewolf. Now he could understand what Harry meant. It was easy to fall for Him, to want His attention and admiration. It was disturbing that such an intelligent child as Harry fell for that as well. Though Harry's words were rather perplexing. Lupin moved to help Harry up. The boy was shaken and lost and it made his face look so innocent and young - he looked just like the child he should have been.

Harry struggled onto his feet. His mind was screaming at him that it wasn't real but that disgusting worm of suspicion and ear had found its way into Harry's soul and heart. He felt anxious. He wanted to go and confront Voldemort that instant, to hear him say the words that Harry wanted him to say and not the one's he have just heard. He sat heavily down on the chair that Lupin moved over to him. He felt professor's heavy gaze but didn't want to look into the man's eyes. He knew what he would see in them. Disgust and pity. And Harry couldn't take pity. Sighing he stood up and excusing himself walked out of the office in quick strides before professor could stop him. Lupin watched him go, sadly shaking his head.

**xxx**

It was morning on the 31st of october, when Copper brought Harry a note from his master. The first few words in months. Harry was sure Voldemort was either avoiding him, or simply forgot about him after finally marking him. Not having any patience to wait until after breakfast, he opened the note in his lap, hiding it under the table.

_Do take a look at the tomorrow's issue of the Daily Prophet. I think you will find the news most exciting._

And that was it. Thinking it over, Harry decided that something big was going to happen. Otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have been so short, he would have insulted him a least once, and would have surely flourished his title at the end. The Dark Lord was clearly excited himself. The fact that he shared the news with Harry made his insides grow warm, his scar tingle a little. He turned the note to ash and began eating, trembling with anticipation.

The next morning Harry entered the Great Hall and was surprised by it's grave silence. Students were looking at the newspapers in their hands with different expressions on their faces. Most of them looked scared. Harry immediately knew - Voldemort had done something, and it was really big, judging by the professor's gobsmacked faces at the Head Table. Only professor Snape looked calm and not affected at all. When Harry sat down at his table, he was met with the concerned face of his blonde friend, staring at him as if considering to ask him something very serious. Harry shot him a questioning glare and got a handful of a newspaper in reply.

"Read this. I don't know what to say, really, Harry. I knew the truth, just thought you wouldn't want to talk about it but...," he heard Draco say and trail off as Harry took in the bald headline "DEATH EATERS ESCAPE AZKABAN". He felt his legs become wobbly as if hit with a jelly-leg curse. There was a picture of the mighty monolith, standing on the island in the middle of the sea, storm enveloping it into a furious whirlpool. Harry dreaded the thought that they printed the photographs of the escaped convicts. If Rabastan's picture was in the paper, then Harry was doomed. He looked around but didn't see any recognition in others' faces. Perking up at that he quickly scanned the pages for the pictures but there were none. He let out a loud breath he was holding and returned to the text of the article.

_Yesterday, October 31st, late evening, the Ministry received an alarm call from the most secured wizarding prison in Europe. Nobody knows what exactly happened but 143 prisoners had broken out and escaped Azkaban. 14 Death Eaters amongst them, with the three notorious followers of You-Know-Who responsible for the cruel fate of Frank and Alice Longbottom. The trio of Rodolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix Lestrange, famous for their cruelty and insanity, had suddenly attacked their guards and, by capturing their wands, killed 4 Aurors on their way before apparating away. Surviving witness Auror Brown told us that everything started from the last, highest, level of the prison, where one of the convicts broke free out of his cell, attacking and killing his guard. After he made it through to the bridge between the wings of the prison, he was killed. But after him, one by one, others were also escaping their cells and Aurors have encountered a problem of holding them off. It is said that nobody except mr Brown had survived the break out..._

Harry didn't need to read any further. He was absolutely sure that Voldemort simply walked into the prison and, killing everybody on his way, freed all of his servants. But to make it look less suspicious he made it look like it was a mass escape. Certainly, he altered Brown's memory leaving him alive to simply tell the tale. No, the main reason why Harry felt crushed by the news was the fact that his father and uncle were now free. And Harry knew it wouldn't take long before they find out about him. He was so not ready for this. He then registered what Draco had said. He looked at the blonde, struggling to keep his composure.

"So you knew. Fine with me as long as you don't tell a soul."

Draco nodded, "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," that was the truth. Harry really had no idea. He saw Severus watching him, watching his reaction. Harry glanced at Dumbledore whose eyebrows were furrowed in concentration while he was reading the article. Something told Harry the coot would see through the scheme. Perhaps that was the Dark Lord's intention after all. The note, though, the note told Harry that Voldemort planned to free his father not for only being his most faithful, but for his, Harry's, sake as well. Otherwise he would have never written. Looking at the Head Table once again, Harry saw Lupin shaking his head at him, telling him to do nothing, to not rush into action. He wasn't going to. But he had to send Voldemort a reply. He realized it to be a game, where his master gives him something precious and he must serve very well to live up to such generosity. Harry whistled for Copper and went to a secluded alcove, not far from the auditory of his morning class of the history of magic.

**xxx**

Voldemort sat in the hospital wing that he created in his fortress. He watched the mediwizards tending to most of the unconscious patients, all - death eaters. Some suffered much more then the others at Azkaban, so they all were in different states of sanity and physical health. Bellatrix was one of them. Yet the Lestrange brothers left the wing almost instantly after they arrived. Both were too thin and in need of nutrition, but other then that both showed no signs of damaged mentality. Whether that was because they were already insane before their capture or not, Voldemort didn't know. They both were in their rooms, sleeping in a long forgotten comfort. He had to tell them about the little scion of theirs. At first, he thought to keep Harry a secret, but it was inevitable that one of the brothers would see the boy's face in the meeting or some other way and would, of course, recognize him as one of their own. So he decided to tell them himself and see what happens.

He hadn't been keeping in touch with the brat for a very long time, feeling the boy's evident distress after the marking. But in time he realized that their connection was somehow muffled. The brat had brought up very strong mental shields. Voldemort didn't think he found out about their connection (otherwise the Dark Lord wouldn't hear the end of it), and that could only mean that something was going on. He sent the note as a test, to get some reaction. And he got it. First it came as a shared emotion through their link. And it was fear. The boy was afraid of his family or most likely if they would want to be his family. And the second reaction was a letter.

_My Lord,_

_I congratulate you on your successful mission. I have to say, I think Dumbledore saw right through your charade. There were no photographs of the death eaters in the papers, though logically they should have been there. Was it your doing? If it was I am grateful. _

_As for freeing my father and uncle - I don't really know what to think. I presume you would tell them yourself... _

_I hope you would warn them not to kill me, you know, your horcrux and all that._

_Me_

Yes, it was his doing. One of his followers worked in the newspaper and was able to get rid of the photographs in the article. And yes, Lestranges were definitely going to kill the brat. He needed to be careful with them. The Dark Lord sighed and stood up. There was nothing else he could do for his recently freed followers, they just needed time and rest. He left without a word.

**xxx**

November came and passed. Harry, still feeling anxious, spent the month waiting for the hammer to fall. Professor Snape didn't know anything about the condition of the Lestrange brothers nor had he seen them at all, and when Harry asked him these same questions three times in just one week, he snapped and told Harry to ask his master and leave him in peace. Although Severus felt irritated, he understood what Harry was going through, but there was nothing he could do to help the boy. Lupin didn't talk about the news with Harry. Sirius sent him a letter, telling him not to fear and that his relatives were probably in even worse condition that he himself had been, and would need a lot of time to heal. Harry thought it to be a wishful thinking. Only Anguis tried to sooth his nervousness. He would come down to the chamber sometimes, practice and then the great serpent would hold him in its coiled embrace and whisper lullabies in his ear, would tell him he shouldn't be afraid of what was to come, that he would be accepted. Harry wanted to believe that. His darkness was anxious as well, choking him with violent caresses at night, pushing him to kill, to sate its, his hunger.

It was a Hogsmead weekend in december, early morning, when the third year slytherins gathered at the Three Broomsticks, chatting, drinking their butterbeer and enjoying the inside warmth. Harry didn't sit with them for long and soon left the pub. He stood outside in the freezing cold wind not really feeling the low temperature. He needed to get rid of the stress, needed to sate his anger and shake the fear off of himself. He looked around. There were a lot of students here. And some of them were an easy prey. Harry walked around for a while, looking at the alleys in the search for a secluded area. Finding none, he then thought of the Shrieking Shack - the place was ideal for his activities. Harry went to the main shopping area of the village and stood in the shadows, watching the children.

Then he saw her - she was a fourth year ravenclaw, with her nose buried deep inside the book. She was alone and didn't really see where she was going, her attention firmly on the text in front of her. Harry moved behind the corner of the building and threw an Imperius curse at her, his wand movements hidden under the heavy winter cloak. The girl's eyes glazed and she obediently walked to the Shack, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, followed by the disillusioned Harry. They entered and he locked the doors and silenced the house. Canceling the curse he sat down on a tattered sofa in the house's mostly bare and shabby living room. The girl came to her senses and the book fell from her hands onto the floor. She started screaming almost instantly, when she took a look at his face, marred by an expression of anger and disgust. Harry watched her trying the doors, the windows - everything was locked.

"There is no scape, my dear," he said cheerfully, stood up and closed in on her, grabbing her by her throat and easily pushing her down to the floor. She was struggling viciously but it only turned Harry on even more. He sat upon her, pinning her down with his weight, and started to strangle her slightly, slowly increasing the pressure. Her screams turned into whimpers and gasps, tears ran down her cheeks.

"I need it, you see. I want to play with you," he took out his wand and threw crucio at her, still seating on her stomach, his thighs on the sides of her body, holding her in place. She began thrashing violently underneath him, screaming hoarsely. Harry was seriously aroused. He rode up and down with her jerking movements, rubbing his growing erection at her body. After about thirty seconds he had to lift the curse for she fell unconscious. Enervating her, he proceeded with the cutting curses. In five minutes her body turned into a pile of slashed and cut and ripped flesh, that barely looked like a human it was. Harry, covered in blood from head to toes, finally reached his high and jerked off on her, moaning in the pleasure of a painful release. He put his trousers back on, panting heavily.

Standing up he looked around - the room was a mess, blood splattered all over the walls, her innards around her on the floor.. And his clothes were soaked wet in blood as well. He thought he would have to go to the shop and buy something new. Watching her butchered corpse gave him little comfort that he craved. It didn't matter that he killed her, what mattered - he wasn't weak, he could do anything he wanted. He would not break, he was ready to face whatever was coming. When he turned to leave, not really caring to hide the corpse, his mark began burning. The pain shot through his arm and he knew he was summoned. He looked at his watch - it was still early, he would have time to get back before curfew. Harry pushed his wand against his mark and closed his eyes. He was apparated away a second later.

**xxx**

Voldemort didn't expect to see the boy covered with somebody else's blood or dressed at all, let alone wearing a heavy cloak soaked with blood that dripped from it on the stone floor. The feeling he experienced through their link led him to believe that Harry had been indulging himself in the ordinary teenage way of masturbating and he was eager to interrupt him in the process for his own cruel amusement. And again the brat surprised him. He tortured and killed someone just now. The staines of red smeared all over his pale face clashed with wet copper hair and brought out the shining green of avada kedavra in his eyes. The sight was stunning, Voldemort had to admit to himself. He licked his lipless slit-like mouth and shifted on his throne to hide his arousal. Harry looked at the snake-man for a while and then took a heavy step closer and kneeled.

"My lord, you called for me."

"Yes, little one," Voldemort hissed still watching him hungrily, "I have something for you, but first tell me what happened to you? Whose blood is this?"

"A fourth year student, my lord," Harry answered, his head bowed down. He felt a cold finger pushing his chin up. His eyes met the blood red ones and he heard a soft ::Show me::. Harry obediently brought forth the memories of what happened just minutes ago and let Voldemort look into his mind. The Dark Lord pulled away with a satisfied grin full of sharp teeth on his face.

"My, child, you are progressing. I am so proud of you, my little one," a vision of bogart came to Harry's mind and he blushed, pleased that his fears were fruitless. His heartbeat became faster and he leaned closer to his master. Voldemort smiled at that and let his fingers caress Harry's blooded cheek. The boy closed his eyes at the contact, reveling in the familiar sensation. But, reluctantly, the Dark Lord pulled away, too soon for his own liking, though he knew that if he didn't stop, then Harry would end up in his bed and that wasn't the plan. He stood up and gestured for Harry to follow him. They left the hall and walked through the long dark corridors to the farthest wing of the base, where the rooms for the staying death eaters were situated. Something told Harry he knew what was going to happen and he didn't like it at all.

**xxx**

They stopped at the doors to a drawing room which was a library at the same time. Voldemort jerked his head, commanding Harry to enter. With a last pleading look at his master Harry complied, having received a glare at his antics. He wasn't weak, he could do it.

The room was spacious, between the bookcases stood many armchairs and closer to the doors stood a small sofa. Harry met a sight of a very tall and very thin man sitting on it, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, and long thick strands of copper hair sprawled over the back of the sofa. His once beautiful face looked shallow and haunted. He was dressed in a pair of black trousers, a plain white shirt and a black vest; a book rested in his lap while he seemed to be daydreaming. When Harry took a hesitant step closer, the man turned his face to him and he could see a bright gleam of an unknown emotion appear in his vibrant blue eyes. Somehow Harry knew he was looking at his uncle Rodolphus. He did look like Rabastan's twin, but there were a few unique details to his features that helped Harry distinguish him from his younger brother. Rodolphus gave him a long accessing look before a wild smirk appeared on his thin lips.

"So this is the new half-blood Lord of our noble house?" his low voice had a raspy edge to it, caused by a rare use. Harry didn't see or hear any hostility yet and stood tall, calmly looking at his uncle, waiting for the man to do something.

Rodolphus's eyes roamed over the boy's form taking in every detail. It was hard to believe that, with his blood polluted by a mudblood of his mother, the child seemed to inherit all the traits of the Lestrange family and looked like a smaller copy of Rabastan and himself. He didn't miss the blood pouring down from the hem of his cloak, screaming of violent torture and murder. The bastard boy was only thirteen and had already went through the maturity initiation, traditional for the Lestrange house: killed another human being. No wonder their Lord marked the boy so early. Although Rodolphus didn't like the fact that the bastard managed to become the heir and lord, he couldn't really do anything about it. The ring had chosen him as the heir. While still being the wanted convicts, both brothers couldn't keep their lordship by the law and so now the boy was the head of their family.

Rodolphus smiled to himself. Perhaps, he mused, he could make a worthy little lord out of the boy, if the Dark Lord was pleased with the child then there still was hope for the half-blood. And what's more, his little nephew was the Harry bloody Potter. He could just see all the opportunities this fortunate coincidence could give to their cause. And Rodolphus wasn't a fool, far from it, he knew his master regained his sanity along with his body, and from now on their actions and goals would undoubtedly change. Although he enjoyed hunting and killing muggles, he welcomed the change. He wanted to help reshape the wizarding world to the better, improve it, and if it meant to hold up on some of his favourite leisure activities - he was ready to pay this price. He could always go and hunt muggles elsewhere.

"Well, speak up, boy," he gave Harry a crooked grin.

"It is an honor to meet you, my lord," Harry pulled himself down on one knee before his uncle.

"Well-mannared," Rodolphus chuckled, "I must admit, when our Lord told me you were raised amongst the lowest sort of muggles I was sure that you would be a lost case, fresh meat to be discarded of when it's not useful anymore. However, I can see that you are not worthless. Perhaps, we will be able to make a true lord out of you. And you are still the Lord of the house, legally."

Harry nodded and stood up. Everything his uncle said was logical and right, and honestly unexpected, since Harry was sure he would be tortured into oblivion for his filthy blood. Rodolphus slowly raised himself from the sofa, towering over Harry with his height, and moved to the door that led from the room into the garden.

"I suppose you should go and see your father, boy," he chuckled again and motioned to Harry to join him. Harry warily followed his uncle outside. They slowly walked ahead, through the untamed taft of bushes and tall grass, wild flowers scattered all over the place. A narrow path they chose led them further into the trees.

Both the man and the boy watched each other out of the corner of their eyes. Rodolphus couldn't help but admire his nephew's regal posture, the way he carried himself screamed of pureblood heir. And the blood smearing his delicate pale face and long aristocratic hands only added the charm to his already striking appearance. Those unique avada kedavra eyes could bewitch anybody, even Rodolphus himself. It was truly a miracle the boy turned out like that. They would have to be careful around Bella when she heals - she had this uncontrollable hunger for the younger men and teenagers. Neither she, nor Rodolphus loved each other, being married by a contract between the families. They tried to conceive a child a few times but it was futile, for he was sterile. Bella miscarried twice, gotten pregnant from her numerous lovers, and wasn't able to bare children anymore afterwards. As for Rodolphus, he never worried about having an heir, since he had Rabastan to continue their line.

Rabastan was young and reckless back then and could have had a hundred of bastard sons judging by the way he was enjoying himself with countless lovers and rape victims. However, there was only Harry Potter. When the Dark Lord told them about the boy Rodolphus doubted he was the only one, but Rabastan was strangely adamant that he couldn't have any more children. It looked like there was something more to the story but Rabastan kept his mouth tightly shut. To be honest, Rodolphus didn't really know what did his brother think about having a son, for there was no clear reaction at all. The man was blank. That was why Rodolphus asked his Lord to bring the boy to his father and get it over with as soon as possible.

They stopped at the small meadow between the trees, where Rabastan sat on the rotten bark of wood, reading a book. Harry saw his father's aristocratic profile, straight back and gentle hands holding the book firmly in his lap. His head was bowed and the long copper locks had curtained his face on the other side, bringing out his sickeningly pale skin. Harry was fascinated with the view. He suddenly felt so proud that he took after these two men. He shook his head - nobody accepted him yet, it wouldn't do any good to dream. Rabastan slowly turned and looked at them, his gaze unreadable. He watched Harry, and Harry wanted to cower under the scrutiny but stood his ground and held his head high. Why was he so desperate for the approval of a man whom he never knew? How pathetic. Harry barely prevented his self-loathing show on his face. He decided to break the tension by greeting his father properly. Taking a step forward, he kneeled, bowing his head.

"It is an honor to meet you, my lord. I hope you are well."

Rabastan remained silent, still watching. It seemed he was fighting a battle inside of him. And he was. Rabastan never thought himself to be a kind man, a loving man. The only person in his life that he ever loved, or rather, was attached to, was his older brother Rodolphus. They lost their father very early, and their mother followed him as soon as they graduated from Hogwarts, so it was always them two, with nobody else there to care for them. Love, affection, kindness were not welcome in their family, and he managed well enough without those for his whole life. He never really gave much thought to the fatherhood, although he knew he would have to have an heir at some point in life to continue the line. When the war started he knew there would be no place for such thoughts anyway.

He never really cared for the Dark Lord's attention, following the man simply because his goals appealed to him. He enjoyed killing and torturing, reveled in his hunger for power and control over other's life. It was the only thing he and Bella shared in common. He really despised her in every other way. He sometimes wished her dead, for he pitied his brother. He hoped she'd die in Azkaban, but she lived. Disgusting whore. He never hid his true feelings from her. That wasn't in his character though. He was a secretive and self-centered person, often showing apathy rather then any other emotion, perking up only when it was time to fight. He dueled masterfully and fiercely, the Dark Lord himself couldn't win against him unless he cheated using parsel-magic. And that was all he ever wanted in life: to fight, to torture and never look very far into the future. Yes, he was reckless. He enjoyed raping women and men just to have this unique feeling of control, power.

However, everything changed when he met her - Lily fucking Potter. Lily who was fucking Potter and couldn't conceive a child for three years in a row and yet managed to get pregnant from him after just one time they were together. Or rather he was with her. It was the only time in his life when he felt powerless while forcing himself on his victim. He captured Lily Potter when the death eaters were fighting the Order at the small muggle/wizarding village not very far from Hogsmead. She wasn't a very good dueler but she was oh so beautiful, he simply couldn't kill her without having her all to himself first. He brought her to the Lestrange manor in the central London, that was abandoned by his family and used only by Rabastan. He tortured her first, but Lily was stubborn, she didn't break. A challenge that he enjoyed. When he took her, she didn't scream, didn't cry, and didn't really struggle. He held her prisoner for two more days. And during those two days they spent together, all they did was talk. They talked about everything and nothing in particular. And Rabastan wasn't a very talkative man, preferring actions to words. But Lily did something to him, broke the ice. They shared their past not fearing the consequences, knowing all too well that the next time they meet - one of them would die. It was then she told him about her unhappy and dull life as a Potter wife, about her husband being useless and pathetic in bed and, apparently, sterile. And when he heard, much later, that Lily had a son, he didn't put the two and two together at first.

His lord killed her and Potter and then the child vanished him and then, then Rabastan suddenly decided to do the math and concluded that the boy could very well be his. But nobody knew where the child was hidden. That was why they went to the Longbottoms that night - Rabastan knew that Alice and Lily were close and he hoped to find the child at their house or at least interrogate them on his whereabouts. Rodolphus and Bella never knew about any of this, going after the Longbottoms because they were also mentioned by their master in regard of the prophecy. Alice couldn't tell Rabastan anything - she knew nothing. It was the feeling of lost control over his own life that drove him to the edge. He simply crucioed her into insanity. He was going to kill her, to spill her blood to wash away all those foreign emotions he had to experience because of Lily and his potential bastard son. But he didn't have the time. They were arrested and he didn't resist that much. A string inside of him was cut that night.

And now he was looking at the cause of all this mess. The Harry bloody Potter, his bastard son, his curse and his blessing. And he couldn't decide what was that, that made his throat so tight and dry that he couldn't really speak. That boy, and oh what a beautiful boy he was, and those green eyes that never submitted to him those many years ago... When that boy kneeled in front of him as a true pureblood and greeted him with his own voice, he simply froze. Was it what all fathers usually felt? Was it pride? Longing? He wished to touch the copper hair, his copper hair, on the boy's head. He wished to rub the blood off of that beautiful face, his face, to taste it on his tongue. His son, covered in blood of his victim, sat on his knees in front of him, and he couldn't say a damn word. Because he wasn't a kind man, a loving man. He wasn't.

"Harry," he finally managed to croak. The bright green eyes instantly found his vibrant blue and he thought he saw a spark of hope in the green orbs. He thought of the name and found it too mundane for a Lestrange.

"Yes?" Harry breathed out. He thought Rabastan would never speak to him at all.

"You are covered in blood," he really didn't know what to say. His son was here beside him, his son he never planned and never thought he wanted, he was right in front of him, obviously craving for his affection. For a second Rabastan thought whether he wanted his son's affection as well. What would it be like to have someone utterly devoted to you and completely yours without any marks and magic binds, without any reason at all, but simply because you are a father?

"I've tortured and killed a girl," Harry lowered his gaze under his father's intense look. The man seemed to be deep in thoughts, not really registering what was going on around him, just like Harry usually was.

Rodolphus was watching the scene before him with curiosity. He couldn't decide whether Rabastan liked the boy or not, he was immersed in his own world and had that usual far away look on his face, yet he was watching his son intently. Rodolphus thought there was more to it, much more. He recalled Rabastan asking Alice Longbottom about the mudblood and asking specifically where the boy was hidden. He paid it no heed then, for every death eater was haunting for the Boy-Who-Lived, but now that he thought about it, his brother wasn't really himself that night, he acted strange, almost nervous. And Rabastan was never nervous. Apparently, he knew about his bastard son all along and knew him to be Potter. If they weren't arrested that night, Harry Lestrange would have probably been raised in his true family.

Although Rabastan didn't think he had a parental streak in him, Rodolphus knew better. They both were cold and unforgiving people, but they were loyal to each other and their family until the very end. Rabastan has defended Rodolphus against their Lord thrice when they had only joined the dark army, all three times miraculously coming alive out of it. Rabastan was always so stubborn, it was probably one of the many reasons their master liked him so much. Rabastan didn't, perhaps, realize that, but he was a caring person and he was affectionate in his own strange way. Who knew, maybe the boy would help him and would discover the many unknown sides of his father's complex personality? Rodolphus smiled at the thought.

"I don't like that mundane name," Rabastan murmured slowly, still looking at Harry, searching his face. Did Lily knew all along he was his son? Did she love a death eater's scion? Was it then, when he raped her, she decided to have his child, keep him and raise him as Potter's? Was his son anything like Lily? He slowly raised his hand and touched the soft skin of Harry's face, gently tracing the blood spatter with his fingers. His son, a part of him that will pass on his heritage, his soul that would live for centuries, his blood, tainted but his nevertheless. His.

"What would you like to call me?" was what his son asked. Rabastan looked into the boy's eyes and for a moment forgot himself, mesmerized by the affection he saw in them. Was it possible that the child already liked him? Dared he to wish... loved him?

"Eridanus is the name worthy of the Lord Lestrange. So mote it be," Rabastan touched the invisible ring on Harry's hand and he felt a slight tingling underneath the cool metal. Rodolphus echoed his brother's words with a wide grin on his face and, having moved closer to Harry, touched his ring as well, "So mote it be."

And there was the tingling again. Harry looked at them both, perplexed, and felt very hot all of a sudden. He knew something happened, some magical ritual had just been performed. Had they... given him a new name? He looked questioningly at his uncle.

"From this day and until the end you are Eridanus Rabastan Lestrange, the heir and lord of the noble house of Lestrange. You would use your Harry Potter pseudonym, of course, but that is not your real name anymore. Your new name would appear on our family tree and our family's tapestry soon," Rodolphus explained.

"So, this means, this means you have accepted me?" Harry couldn't help but sound uncertain. He felt Rabastan's hand grab him by the jaw and turn his face to look at his father.

"You are a Lestrange. You are my son and my blood. From what I know about you, you are worthy of our family," he sounded very alive, his voice much louder and his face somewhat alight, "Wear your name and your ring with pride."

"I will," Harry could barely breathe. Though the hold was tight he still found himself leaning into the touch. Why was he so hungry for the affection of those who owned him in one way or another? Though, at the same time he wanted his father to never let go of him.

"Well, since we've covered this, we should go inside, it is getting really cold here and it would surely snow soon," Rodolphus offered. Rabastan let go of his son and stood up. Harry... no, Eridanus, he must think of himself as Eridanus now, looked at both men and also stood up and then he noticed a big bloody spot where he sat. His clothes were ruined. Rodolphus snorted, "We will get you something to wear as well."

They slowly walked back into the fortress in a comfortable silence. None of them knew that Voldemort had been present all this time, hidden under the invisibility charm. He was sure that Rabastan would reject the boy but, apparently, the Dark Lord didn't know his favourite dueler as well as he thought. And, apparently, Rabastan knew about his child all along. It didn't sound very good for Rabastan, though, for if he knew that his son was connected to the prophecy and never told his master, then he would have to suffer the consequences. However, Voldemort was pleased with the outcome of the meeting. Rodolphus was always very intelligent and insightful when it came to understanding and manipulating people. Now that the boy was accepted into his family, he wouldn't ever be in any danger from the Light nor from the Dark. The Lestrange brothers would see to that.

**xxx**

When they entered the drawing room, the Dark Lord had already been waiting there for them, seated on the sofa and looking bored to death. All the three Lestranges fell down on their knees with a unison "My Lord". Now that was the sight he enjoyed very much, Voldemort mused. He smirked at them and got up.

"Ah, ickle Lestrange, I forgot to give you your second birthday present the last time we saw each other. I suppose you would like to get it now?" he was twirling his white wand in his long bony fingers.

"Yes, my lord," Eridanus exhaled and prepared for cruciatus. But the curse never came. Instead he saw the snake-man chuckle and shake his bald white head.

"There," he waved his wand and Eridanus found a rich black robe in his hands with his new Death Eater mask lying upon it. It was the golden mask. Both Rabastan and Rodolphus shared a knowing look. Their Lord had some grandiose plans for Eridanus it seemed, for nobody could get into the Inner Circle just like that. It was earned with pain and blood. Voldemort gave them both a knowing smile in return.

"Perhaps, some tea is in order, don't you think?"


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, murder, gore, sexual theme._

_A/N: from now on Harry is going to be Eridanus in this story. Hope you wouldn't be too confused with that._

* * *

Eridanus sat in the dining room with Voldemort, Rodolphus and Rabastan. They were having tea. However, Eridanus couldn't make himself drink anything, so he simply held the cup between his fingers, turning it around, rolling the tea inside of it. He was watching the dark liquid move and tried to ignore the heavy gaze of one particular Dark Lord, who had all but burnt a hole in him already. The Lestrange brothers were quietly sipping their tea, watching them discreetly from behind their cups. Finally Voldemort's patience came to its limit.

"So, what do you think about your new position in my ranks?" he hissed impatiently.

Was the man really looking for his approval, Eridanus thought, amused. Now, that was funny. He smiled shyly at his master.

"I am overwhelmed, my lord. I don't know how to show you how much I appreciate the trust you've placed in me."

"Do not worry about that, little one, you will have plenty of opportunities to show it. I want you to know that your high position entails a lot of responsibility and couldn't be possibly taken lightly. We are not going to act in the open yet, but very soon some blood will have to be shed, and you will be called to kill, to fight by your father's and uncle's side. You won't be able to get out of it, you do understand that, don't you?" he was watching the boy carefully. He needed to hear that Eridanus did truly understand his situation.

The Inner Circle wasn't simply the highest rank. Only the most trusted and loyal wizards could get the golden mask. But behind the prestige and the trust lay danger and high expectations. Voldemort gave him this mask not only because Eridanus was the keeper of his soul and his fateful ally, but because he trusted the boy with his life and his secrets. Eridanus had multiple opportunities to destroy him, to avenge his mother, his horrible childhood, his family's imprisonment - everything bad that happened to the boy was Voldemort's doing, he had every right to seek revenge. But he didn't. Eridanus wasn't simply lucky as the Dark Lord preferred to lie to himself. The boy was incredibly intelligent and cunning, he easily manipulated people without even knowing it - obvious Lestrange traits. He also was fiercely stubborn, iron willed and very very strong, hardened by the unfair life. While most of his death eaters were raised in strict but otherwise good, caring families, and their servitude was the result of their selfishness and desire of his attention and grace, desire of power and acceptance, Eridanus was very much like Voldemort himself.

He didn't need anybody's acceptance - he was willing to change the world to his own liking. He was powerful and simply improved himself on his own, without anybody's help. But most importantly, he was a loner and he understood Voldemort better than anybody else. He wanted Voldemort for what he was, not for his alluring Dark Lord persona. He wanted Tom Riddle. Nobody made him feel like Tom Riddle before. And it wasn't the soul piece, he knew that for sure - his soul had become Eridanus' own and was now inseparable. Technically, he could extract it, but that would leave the boy only the half of the remaining soul. There was something else about Eridanus that made him who he was, that made him want Tom Riddle. And that was the reason why he was put into the Inner Circle.

"I do, my lord, and I am ready to serve you any way you deem necessary," Eridanus bowed his head in respect. During these last months, since the marking, he gave a lot of thought to his new duties and his new life. He realized that even if he hadn't been marked, he wouldn't be able to leave Voldemort's side or ignore his authority. Eridanus wanted to be with him, wanted to help his cause, not only because of the soul bond they shared, but because he felt attracted to Voldemort, attracted to his personality. He wanted to get to know him better, to understand him. And now he had a family to protect and to fight for, and it was yet another reason why he would stay by the Dark Lord's side.

"Good," Voldemort watched him through the narrowed eyes. He thought he saw a flash of affection and kindness in the boy's eyes and it made him feel warm inside. He was angry at himself for being so weak and easily affected by the child, but couldn't get rid of it no matter how much he tried. He hissed in irritation and stood up. The three Lestranges stood up as well. He waved his hand at them.

"You should catch up on your past, you would be amused by the boy's story. I will be in the hall. Little Lestrange, you can leave when you are finished," he strode to the door but halted at the exit. Turning to the still standing men, he gave them an amused smirk, "Am I right to assume that you were properly named, little one?"

"Yes, my lord, my name is Eridanus Rabastan Lestrange," Eridanus bowed his head again, his father and uncle did as well.

"Eridanussss," he tasted it on his tongue, hissing gently, "The mysterious river of Hades and a constellation. Suits you well, little Lestrange. Perhaps, now you can sign your letters properly," he chuckled and then left.

The three men stared after him for a while, then sat down again and continued their tea in silence. Rodolphus was the one to break it some time later.

"Eridanus, I know this is a lot for you to take. To be honest, it is a lot for me as well, and I guess I would be right to presume the same about Rabastan. If you are not ready yet, you can leave and return to this discussion later, when you are able to," he was watching his nephew and his brother, both of them looked into their cups. The similarities in their appearances and personalities were frightening. Rodolphus could only shake his head in astonishment.

"I'm not sure there would be another opportunity soon. Don't forget, I killed a girl, there surely would be an investigation, and they surely would cancel the Hogsmead weekends for some time and add security measures. So I'd rather tell you everything there is to tell now," Eridanus sighed heavily and finally took the first sip of his now cold tea.

"Why did you kill her?" Rabastan finally spoke, looking at his son intently.

"I'm going through the addiction period. I had to do that to sate my... hunger," he pushed his hair back, and slumped back in the chair, "I usually go to the unwarded area in the castle and practice the dark arts there, feeding my darkness. But after taking the mark I found my, ah, problem to be more demanding."

"I see," Rabastan nodded in understanding, "We both were fourteen when we went through the same complications. I know it is hard and killing is really the best way to cope with it, but you must be careful, Eridanus. Now that you are marked, you are in a grave danger. Dumbledore would not hesitate and would kill you before aurors would get to Hogwarts," though his face was blank, his voice gave out his worry. Eridanus couldn't help but blush, noticing it. Rodolphus smiled at him, knowingly.

"I will be careful, my lord, I promise," he lowered his eyes and frowned. He knew he acted recklessly today, but it felt so good. He had to pull himself together and soon.

"You should address me as 'father' or 'sir'," Rabastan murmured and the sudden warmth in his eyes made Eridanus' insides melt. He felt like a five year old, or at least he thought that was how little children felt when they had parents. Rabastan, for his part, felt suddenly overwhelmed with his own words and struggled to swallow the lump in his throat. He was a father. It wasn't a dream or a vision, that often visited him in the darkness of his cold cell in prison. It was real and his son was alive, his flesh and blood. Eridanus blushed face made him smile inwardly. The boy was easy to read and it was something he liked very much. Most people he knew hadn't had the freedom of being themselves around him, yet Eridanus had and it was refreshing.

"And you should address me as 'uncle' or 'sir' as well," Rodolphus smiled at him. Eridanus noticed that the brothers were different in their personalities but both were kind to him. He felt light-headed. That was what it was like to have a family, a true family, that accepted you for who you were, accepted your nature, your mistakes. Sirius was also a very understanding and kind person, but Eridanus always thought of him as a friend, a guardian, he didn't see him as family at all. And now he had these two men, whom he already admired, the two men who cared for him and wanted him, barely knowing him. He felt proud and... happy?

"You live with Black now?" Rabastan asked, his eyebrows creased a little. He wasn't very happy with his son's guardian, but at least it was better than living with the light family. He remembered how Rodolphus almost choked when their Lord told him that Eridanus was placed with the Weasleys for the summer. He himself was appalled by the thought.

"Yes, Sirius was named my godfather by Lily as well, so it's legal in any way. He's dark and he wouldn't join the Light again. After Dumbledore's betrayal he doesn't trust them anymore. He wouldn't join us, not after everything that happened, of course. But he would stay neutral. He wouldn't meddle with my life and he doesn't judge my choices and loyalties. As long as I'm not hurt he doesn't mind what I do."

"Well, as long as he keeps his word and stays out of the way, I don't see any problem with you living with him. The house of Blacks is as safe as any of ours, and Black is a skilled dueler as well, so you are safe with him," Rodolphus mused aloud, pouring them all some tea.

"I agree," Rabastan nodded, but Eridanus saw he wasn't content with the situation. Though there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

"What do you want me to tell you about... myself?" Eridanus asked uncertainly, looking sheepishly at his father and uncle.

"Everything," Rabastan said simply and looked at him expectantly. Rodolphus nodded in agreement, closed his eyes and slumped back in his chair, prepared to listen.

"Alright," Eridanus sighed, "I guess I should start from the beginning..."

**xxx**

When Eridanus came back to Hogsmead, it was already dark outside and the last students were hurriedly walking back to the castle. He joined the seventh year slytherins and was soon back in the common room. When Draco asked where had he been, Eridanus told him the half-truth: that he went to meet his father and uncle and it went well. Draco looked at him with wide eyes, shocked and excited at the same time. Eridanus also told him his name, for he knew that Draco would surely understand what that meant. And Draco did. He looked at Eridanus like he had never seen him before, in admiration and awe. Eridanus couldn't help but smile at his friend's reaction.

Later, they both told Blaise and Theo about Eridanus' true parentage and name, for he decided that they deserved to know the truth, especially if he would need their help in the future. Both Blaise and Theo took the news well, evidently pleased with the developments. The four of them made a pact to keep this a secret and the three boys promised Eridanus to help him in the future every way they possibly could. When they were all in their beds, Eridanus lay wide awake and watched the ceiling above him. He felt this unfamiliar but oh so pleasant warmth in his chest, that made his darkness purr in delight and glee. He never thought he would have a family. He never thought he would find true friends. And yet he did, he did. He closed his eyes and let a small happy smile appear on his face. All thanks to one nosy and slightly insane Dark Lord, Eridanus mused.

**xxx**

Mariette Goodkind was the girl's name, Eridanus found out the next morning at breakfast. Dumbledore looked grave when he stood at the Head Table and asked the students to help search for the missing ravenclaw. The older years students were to form groups and search the grounds and the school. The first to fourth years were to stay in their dormitories. Eridanus could only shrug his shoulders at that. When they find her they wouldn't be able to connect her to him, and even if they would - there were no evidence pointing at him. Professor Snape gave him a speculative look, but Eridanus only raised his eyebrow at the man. He wanted to spend a day in peace, to be able to put all his thoughts and emotions in order. He sighed and stood up to join the snakes. They left the hall and went to their common room. Eridanus and his classmates spent the day doing their homework, playing cards and lazing around.

The girl wasn't found until the monday's afternoon, when an auror checked the Shrieking Shack. All classes were cancelled for the rest of the day and the students were once again locked in their common rooms. The rumors of the gruesomeness of her death spread fast and the dinner was spent in a heated discussion of the few details that were known. Eridanus discreetly avoided the topic, saying he wasn't interested in some deceased ravenclaw. All in all the student body was terrified and teachers looked pale and frightened, conversing quietly between each other, eyeing the slytherin table warily. Eridanus could only roll his eyes at that. Of course, only the snakes were capable of violence. He caught Ron Weasley's glare and blinked blankly at the redhead, looking bored. Ron narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. Eridanus snorted in amusement. Weasley would always suspect him even if he didn't do anything.

On his way out of the Great Hall he crashed into Ginny, who was clearly waiting for him. He raised his eyebrows at her, not hiding his irritation.

"Harry, did you hear about Mariette? This is awful! I'm so scared! Ron says you killed her but this is ridiculous, of course," she huffed and rolled her eyes, grabbing Eridanus by the arm, "I'm not mad at you, by the way, for your letter, I mean. I was rather amused, to be honest. Ron was the one who opened it and got jinxed anyway," she giggled and winked at him mischievously. Eridanus wanted to groan but the looks the other students were giving him made him brace himself. He gave her a forced smile in return. She beamed at him.

"Thank you, Ginny, I really appreciate that. I hope your parents aren't very angry with me, I just wanted to spend more time with Sirius, we have so much to catch up on, you know..."

"Oh, Harry, of course! Mum was angry at first but she said it was ok, said you're probably too shy to accept our care and attention and she knows it was your godfather who made you jinx the letter, so don't worry. Dad laughed, the twins were ecstatic, so don't even think about it," she waved her hands dismissively and clung closer to him. Eridanus sighed in exasperation and gently pushed her away.

"Thanks, Ginny, you've cleared my conscience. But I must go, sorry, you've heard the orders, we have to go to the common rooms."

"Alright, Harry, see you!" she pecked him on his cheek and took off, blushing and glancing back at frozen Eridanus, who was torn between horror and disgust.

"I hope you would wash your face once we're in the dormitory?" Draco appeared at his side, looking at him with a sour expression on his handsome face.

"Shut it. Be grateful that was it," Eridanus snapped at him and marched angrily to the dungeons, with a smirking blonde on his heels.

They were stopped by fuming Ron, who had the nerve to grab a fistful of Eridanus's robes and shout at him, "Stay away from my sister, you, MURDERER!"

"Weasley," he shoved him away and smoothed his clothes, glaring at the redhead in disdain, "Whatever idea you got into your bright head, please, spare me. As for Ginny, she does as she pleases, if you would be able to keep her away from me - I would be forever grateful. Now, leave me in peace, would you," Eridanus hissed icily. Draco, who had already had his wand pointed at Ron, snarled some profanities at the redhead in disgust. But Weasley didn't get the warning.

"I know who you are, everybody thinks you are so light, so smart, but I see through your act. I know you killed that girl and you would kill again. All slytherins are murderers, you are all future death eaters! You belong in Azkaban!" his face almost merged with his hair in colour. Eridanus shook his head and tagged Draco on the sleeve.

"Leave it, he's beyond any help or reason. Let's go, we still have those charts to fill and Theo needs help with charms project."

Ron raised his wand at these words and prepared to shout the spell but was suddenly thrown on the floor by his own brothers. The twins soundlessly appeared seemingly out of nowhere and backhanded him. Eridanus and Draco raised their eyebrows in surprise. One of the twins, it was impossible to tell George or Fred, smiled at them.

"Ronnikins doesn't know when to stop, please, excuse his lack of braincells," all four of them snickered at that, while Ron growled from below, rubbing his side and glaring at his brothers angrily.

"It's alright," Eridanus waved his hand at them, "We should be going," he looked at Draco and the blonde nodded. They turned and started walking, when Fred (or George) tagged Eridanus on his robe.

"Hey, Harry, we wanted to talk with you later. What do you say, meet us in the old charms classroom tomorrow at lunch?"

"Alright," Eridanus looked at him curiously. Whatever the twins wanted, he was intrigued to find out. They were always good to him and he found their sense of humor rather peculiar. The redhead nodded and, smiling, waved him goodbye. He and his brother took Ron by his arms and dragged him in the direction of gryffindor tower, ignoring his loud protests.

"What did those blood-traitors want from you?" Draco grimaced as they continued walking to the common room.

"I will find out tomorrow," Eridanus smiled at him and lifted his shoulders. Whatever it was, he thought it was going to be interesting.

The next day Eridanus met the twins during their lunch time. Both George and Fred looked rather mysterious and after they locked and silenced the classroom, they both sat down on the desks and stared at Eridanus expectantly, their blue eyes gleaming mischievously.

"Well, what did you want to talk about?" he glared at them playfully, taking on a bored look.

"You see, Harrikins, we need a secluded place to brew our experimental potions. Professor Snape used to close his eyes at what we do unless we behaved, but..." they both rubbed their heads and smiled at him sheepishly.

"... we got caught and now we don't have access to any of the classrooms, to the ingredients..."

"Our hands are tied..."

"... and you can help us!"

Eridanus watched them, feeling slightly nauseous at their weird way of conversing. He shook his head and concentrated.

"You got caught?" he finally asked, incredulously. The twins were so subtle, they even earned the little respect the snakes could allow themselves to give to the blood-traitors. They couldn't get caught unless they did something big and it went wrong...

"Wait a minute, it was YOU who created all this mess at the welcoming feast!" he pointed at them, laughing helplessly. The twins grinned and spread their hands at him.

"Dumbledore confiscated our wands till the end of the term and prohibited us any experiments. Snape watches us like a hawk," George said.

"We really need your help, Harry," Fred added.

"Why do you think I can help you?" Eridanus looked at them in feigned innocence.

"Please," George huffed and rolled his eyes, "You disappear all the time and nobody knows where."

"We bet you are practicing something illegal," Fred winked at him.

"But we would keep our mouths shut, of course," George chirped, smiling.

"If you share," they finished in unison. Eridanus smiled at their antics, amused. Yes, the twins were very clever. Perhaps, he could gain something from their deal.

"Fine, but you will owe me, since outing me will be futile," he smirked at them. They watched him carefully and, after a shared look between each other, they both finally nodded.

"You have yourself a deal, sir," they shook their hands with him.

"Follow me," he waved at them, and they walked out of the classroom. Eridanus brought them to the Room of Requirement and explained the way it worked. He made them give a magical vow that they would never tell anybody about the room. Satisfied, the twins bid him goodbye and disappeared behind the door that soon vanished from the face of the wall. Eridanus smiled to himself and went to his next class. He intended to keep the Room to himself, but the twins could be useful, and he was ready to let them in for his own benefit.

**xxx**

At the end of november Eridanus finally found the time to go down into the Chamber to look for the library. Dumbledore went away for a few days and Draco promised to cover for him, so he could spend the night underground, unnoticed. After he got a few turkeys from the elves, Eridanus disillusioned himself and went to the Chamber. Once inside, he canceled the charm and greeted the great serpent who came out to meet him.

::Anguis, it's good to see you! I brought you some food:: he tossed him the turkeys and Anguis easily caught them, swallowing them in one gulp.

::Thank you, master Lestrange:: he crawled closer and nuzzled at Eridanus' hands ::I missed you, little serpent:: sometimes Eridanus thought that Anguis was too affectionate for the ancient legendary monster that he was. He smiled at the basilisk and pulled him into a warm embrace.

::I missed you too, Anguis. But I came today to have a serious talk with you:: he pulled away and looked into the serpent's eyes, his eyebrows creased. Anguis felt that his master wasn't in good spirits and he backed away, as sheepishly as it was possible for a huge snake.

::Tell me, master::

::Why haven't you told me about Salazar's library?:: Eridanus put his hands on his hips and glared at him in ire. Anguis bowed his head and closed his yellow eyes in shame and submission.

::I am sorry, master, that I let my conscience cloud my mind and interfere with my duties. The books hidden in this library are very dangerous. I saw what they did to master Tom. I didn't want the same to happen to you. You are such a young little serpent:: he hissed sadly and coiled around the boy protectively. Eridanus felt he couldn't hold grudge against the poor basilisk, who clearly cared for him. Sighing, he leaned onto the great, scaled body.

::Tell me what happened to Tom?::

::Master Tom spent months in the library during his last two years at Hogwarts, coming here every night, every weekend, sometimes even during the day between his classes. He sat inside and read and read. Sometimes he forgot to eat and sleep. Those things he read had changed him. I fear he took Salazar's ideas too close to his heart. I may not be as smart as my creator, but I know that many of the experiments that Salazar performed were very bad, they were designed to give a wizard more powers but ruined him in the process. Salazar was a very impulsive and very impatient human. And he got angered easily. Many of the horrible things that he did, he did unintentionally, blinded by his rage:: Anguis sighed, upset by the memories. Eridanus listened, mesmerized. Anguis rarely spoke of Salazar, but always spoke of him in respect and awe. This side of the serpent's and his creator's relationship was unknown to him.

::How did Salazar die? The books speculate on many different ideas, but there are no concrete facts::

::He killed himself. Unintentionally. He destroyed his own body and spirit. I don't know what exactly did he do, but it happened here, in the Chamber. His children found him, or what was left of him, and took it away to bury. They put and locked me here forever, to guard his works and legacy. Not one of his descendants had ever visited me until Tom. And you:: Anguis coiled tighter around Eridanus, seeking comfort in the boy's warmth. Eridanus felt sorry for the basilisk. He embraced his great head and caressed the sensitive skin under the jaws.

::I promise, Anguis, I would not repeat their mistake. I want this knowledge to get to know Tom better, I need to understand what he wants so I could help him. I don't want him to hurt himself, again:: he thought about the horcruxes and about the snake-man persona that Tom wore as a glamour. He used to look like it constantly before he was vanquished. What led him to lose his humanity? Obviously, ripping the soul into pieces wasn't healthy. But the sheer amount of magical powers that he wielded was so overwhelming, Eridanus found it hard to believe it all came naturally to Tom. He must have used some of these Salazar's dangerous rituals. He shivered at the thought that Tom could consciously take such great risks in order to overcome the limits of magic.

Sure, his accomplishments were great, but the price he paid terrified Eridanus. He himself craved power and control, he also despised boundaries and limits that were put by those too weak to overcome them. But Eridanus knew that some things were not worthy of losing one's self in the process. Immortality was one of them. It was a tempting idea to be able to live forever and watch the world develop and change in time. But then again, the world changed constantly, destroying and rebuilding itself in a vicious circle. Would it be possible for a human being, so hungry for control, to be able to sit back and watch? Hardly. But would this human be able to put the world into stasis and prevent it from change? Impossible.

Ancient vampires who lived longer then a thousand years were mere spectators who rarely participated in anything, hiding in the shadows, secluded in their own invisible world. They had enough power and number to make drastic changes and yet they stayed passive. They had enough wisdom to co-exist and not meddle. Eridanus doubted that Tom would be able to follow their example. If he could he would have probably turned. But he strived for immortality of the spirit not body. That led Eridanus to a conclusion that Tom's plans were stretched very far into the future and he intended to supervise their execution. Whatever Tom had in mind, it was doomed if he would keep up with his old ways. Eridanus had to talk to him and get to the bottom of this.

He sighed. Now, that he was close to the library and could read it without any interference, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Did he really want that knowledge? He did, he needed it to help Tom. What if he would give in to temptation and fall into the same trap Tom had? Eridanus arranged himself comfortably in Anguis' coils and sighed once again.

::I won't go there tonight. I'll talk to Tom first::

::You are wise, little serpent. I am proud of you. Sleep, let Anguis sing you a lullaby::

Eridanus obediently closed his eyes and slowly fell into slumber, lulled by the monotonous hisses. He left in the morning, going straight to the Great Hall to join the snakes at the breakfast. The thoughts of the previous night were still on his mind when Copper gently landed on his shoulder and passed him a letter. Eridanus smiled at her absentmindedly and didn't even notice that Draco had to feed her, since he himself was still staring into his plate, completely out of it. Draco knew better than to disturb him and simply gave Copper some bacon and patted her, letting her move onto his shoulder. Finally Eridanus came out of his trance and looked at the letter, frowning. It wasn't signed. He tentatively opened it.

_Dear nephew,_

_I hope you are doing fine with your studies, although I find it hard to believe that there is anything you couldn't accomplish at Hogwarts if Severus' reports of your academic achievements are anything to judge by. Anyway, there is a matter I would like to discuss with you. Rabastan and I had been thinking about it lately and after asking our Lord for an advice we decided that the idea is worth a try. We would like to invite you to spend your christmas holidays with us, here, at the base. You've already seen how much the place improved and believe me, it is getting much more comfortable with time. There is enough space for us to stay, away from other death eaters, so that your identity wouldn't be compromised. I know that the biggest problem is Black. He no doubt would be reluctant if not outright against letting you stay with us. Tell him he can come with you to see the place for himself and meet us. We would hold a neutral meeting, would simply get to know each other. He is your godfather, we are not questioning his rightful claim, we simply wish to have you here with us to celebrate the Yule. Consider our offer, and send us your reply when you've decided._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Rodolphus and Rabastan_

_P.S.: Rabastan still struggles with tremor in his hands, so I am responsible for all the correspondence._

Eridanus took in everything he had read and a broad smile slowly appeared on his tired face. This was something completely new to him - celebrating winter holidays with a family, HIS family. Of course, he didn't want to exclude Sirius, since the man had done so much for him. And Rodolphus was right, Sirius would be wary of letting him stay for such a long time amongst death eaters. However, it was Eridanus' decision to make, wasn't it? He decided to ask Remus for an advice on how to deal with Sirius in this situation.

Remus suggested Eridanus to send the Lestrange's letter to Sirius and to honestly explain his worries to his godfather. He also made a hint that he wanted to take Sirius on vacation out of the grey and cold England somewhere warmer, since it was in his prescription after all. Eridanus decided to include the 'vacation suggestion' for Sirius in his letter as well.

A week later they got Sirius' reply. Reluctantly, he admitted that he couldn't forbid Eridanus to meet his father and uncle, since they both seemed to accept and like him. He also asked his godson to not feel guilty, for he was still a child who still needed a family, however independent Eridanus tried to act. Sirius said he would take Eridanus word for that he wouldn't be harmed and would come back to Hogwarts in one piece. He also admitted, feigning reluctance, that a vacation at the sea would do him some good. Remus said it meant Sirius really wanted to go abroad and was too shy to ask. Eridanus only shook his head at that. Finally it was decided that Remus would take him to the Grimmauld's and the headmaster would be informed, that Eridanus would spend his holidays locked behind the house wards in the company of his godfather and the werewolf. In reality, Eridanus would simply go to the fortress, right from the house, and would return the day before the end of the holidays, to come back to school with Remus, by the train. Eridanus passed their plan in the letter to the Lestranges. Rodolphus sent him a reply note that they were both very pleased with the outcome and that the Dark Lord was pleased as well. Eridanus didn't doubt that. There wouldn't be many healthy people around him to crucio for fun. Besides, Eridanus wanted to have a serious discussion with him regarding the cause, his goals, his plans, Salazar's works and everything. And the long christmas holidays were more than enough to make the man talk. The two and a half weeks left until the last day of school couldn't pass sooner.

**xxx**

Dumbledore easily fell for their charade and on the 24th of december, Remus and Eridanus left Hogwarts, flooing directly to the Grimmauld's. Eridanus decided to dedicate a few hours of his time to shopping at the Diagon Alley and both Sirius and Lupin gladly agreed to accompany him. Eridanus decided to give his father and uncle new winter cloaks, heavy, furred and expensive, worthy of their lordships; for Sirius he chose sweets, for he knew the man had a sweet tooth, and a set of loud and pyro-dangerous pranks; for Lupin he settled on a new set of robes. He also bought a pile of useful and edible gifts for his friends but when he came to Voldemort on his list, he faced a real problem.

There wasn't much the man hadn't had already in his possession. And Eridanus was sure he couldn't choose something mundane for him as well. Puzzled, he didn't notice his feet brought him into the Knockturne Alley and straight to the pet shop. He glanced at the dusty window and saw vague silhouettes of cages and aquariums. Sighing in defeat he stepped inside, ridiculing himself for even thinking of presenting the Dark Lord with a bloody pet. However, he proceeded into the shop and soon found himself next to the glass terrariums occupied with different kinds of magical snakes.

His eyes caught one particularly interesting specimen. It was a Coastal Taipan - one of the most venomous and vicious snakes in the world. It was quite big, about 1,5 meters long and was yet to grow even bigger. The description said it was very temperamental, aggressive and highly dangerous. Eridanus only laughed at that - the snake's personality did remind him of one particular human specimen. However, what he liked about the snake the most was its beautiful form, with the small delicate head and intelligent onyx pearls of eyes, and the dark red, copper colour of its shining scales. Just like his hair. He smiled mischievously and came closer to the glass. The snake lazily lifted its head and gave him a bored uninterested look.

::So full of yourself, are you not?:: Eridanus smiled at it.

::You speak?:: the snake perked up at his voice and moved closer to take a better look at him ::Your hair has the same colour as my scales. You look alright, I suppose::

::Arrogant prat:: he laughed ::What is your sex and what is your name?::

::So many questions for such a small human:: the snake huffed in annoyance and glared at the boy ::I am male, obviously. And I don't have a name yet. It is your job to give me one if you buy me. I warn you though, I would not tolerate being called Scales or Snaky or Fluffy and whatever shitty names there are:: he shook his head haughtily. Eridanus laughed again, highly amused. That snake was Voldemort's clone.

::Where did you learn to swear?::

::Like I will tell you everything:: he huffed at the boy again and turned away, feigning ignorance to other's presence.

::Alight. I want to buy you as a present for someone very important to me, he speaks parseltongue as well and he likes snakes, very much indeed::

::Does he?:: the snake looked curious, though tried to hide it.

::Yes:: Eridanus smiled ::He is a very special wizard and very powerful, any snake would die to become his familiar. He even has a basilisk, although he gave it to me:: at that the snake completely lost its cool and gave the boy his full attention ::Take me to your wizard, he wouldn't regret parting with that beast. Would you give me the name?:: Eridanus reached inside and gently picked the snake up and placed him comfortably on his shoulders ::I will call you Cypreus. I am sure he would love you:: he smiled at the snake and moved to the counter to pay. The clerk watched the two of them in horror, clearly waiting for the taipan to strangle the boy and then get to him. Cypreus rolled his onyx eyes at the man and hissed a few profanities in his address. Eridanus had to bite his lower lip to not burst into hysterical laughter. Who would have thought that Voldemort's scaled clone had such a good sense of humor? They stepped outside and Eridanus covered the swearing snake with his winter cloak. Sirius and Remus both almost had a heart attack at the site of a huge copper serpent on his shoulders but hearing that it was for Voldemort, both relaxed and simply kept their distance. Eridanus was very pleased with his gift for his master. He gently stroke Cypreus' scales making the grumpy snake purr and snuggle closer to his bare neck.

A few hours later, after finally persuading Cypreus to hide in the box to not be seen before the time for the presents to be given would come, Eridanus packed his things and, having said his goodbyes to Sirius and Remus, apparated to the base, tapping his mark with his wand. He arrived to the hall as usual but was met by Rabastan this time. They greeted each other politely and his father helped him take his things into his room. Eridanus' bedroom was located, surprisingly, at the Dark Lord's personal wing and Rabastan had been given a limited time access to his son's room for the holidays. They put the boxes away and Rabastan took Eridanus back to the base wing and into the dining room, where Rodolphus had been already waiting for them.

After the dinner his uncle offered him a tour, and both brothers led Eridanus through the fortress, showing him everything there was, including the cells and torture chambers. They finished at their personal quarters. Eridanus was falling asleep on his feet and didn't even register when Rabastan gently took him by the arm and led him back to his own bedroom. Wishing him good night he left him, closing the door softly behind him. Eridanus took Cypreus out to feed him a rabbit the house-elf brought him and after a small battle of wills he had put the snake back into the box. After that he simply fell onto his comfortable bed and momentarily fell asleep. He hadn't heard his father enter the room and sit on the edge of his bed. Rabastan watched his son's content angelic face with a small smile on his lips. He tentatively reached out and pushed away the locks of copper hair away from Eridanus' face. His fingers lingered on the boy's cheek for some time, caressing the soft pale skin. Reluctantly, Rabastan stood up and, after giving his son a last warm glance, left.

**xxx**

When Eridanus woke up, he winced at the bright rays of sunlight falling right onto his face. Groaning, he turned on his side and pulled the blanket over his head.

"You are not a morning person, I take it," he heard Rodolphus drawl from somewhere around the door. Eridanus only growled in reply.

"Well, it's almost twelve o'clock and I'd suggest you to get your arse up. Our Lord wouldn't wait any longer. Come to the dining room when you are ready. Tell the elves to take your presents into the hall, we would exchange them after lunch. The Yule celebration will start at dinner," with that his uncle left.

Eridanus sighed and threw the blanket to the side. He rarely slept in even on holidays. Perhaps he was simply tired yesterday. He shrugged and dragged himself up and into the bathroom.

Thoroughly washed and pompously dressed, he walked through the empty corridors down to the dining room, braiding his long hair on his way. He entered just in time to join his father, uncle and Voldemort, surprisingly, in his natural human form. He fell on his knees and kissed the man's dark crimson robes.

"My lord."

"Good morning, Eridanus, or should I say good afternoon?" his master drawled sarcastically, watching the boy in amusement. The boy looked particularly beautiful with his long thick braid laying over his shoulder, showing off his long delicate neck. His eyes shone brightly, full of mirth. He was plotting something, the Dark Lord just knew that.

"Good morning, my lord, father, uncle," Eridanus nodded at them politely and sat down. Rodolphus smirked at him, while Rabastan simply nodded. Though Eridanus didn't miss the gleam of laughter in his eyes. It warmed him and he smiled shyly. They ate slowly, Voldemort and Rodolphus talked non-stop about the ministry and the latest legislations, while Eridanus and Rabastan kept silent, exchanging glances and smirks between themselves. When they finished, Voldemort rose up first and beckoned everyone to follow him into the hall.

When they entered the hall Eridanus couldn't keep his expression from shifting to one of amused excitement. It was decorated marvelously. The green and black fronds of larch and spruce covered the walls and hang low from the ceiling, decorated with golden apples and bells. The blood red curtains framed the tall windows, dark red carpets covered the stone floor. Charmed candles hovered in the air and small golden fairies and sprites flew between them, scattering green an red sparks all over the place. The air was filled with the smell of cinnamon and wax. Eridanus could only turn his head and gape. Even Hogwarts looked modest in comparison to this. Rodolphus found his reaction amusing, and Rabastan found it sad. His son had never had even an ordinary filthy muggle Christmas, let alone a grandiose traditional Yule festival. He shook his head and frowned. He only hoped that from now on Eridanus would be able to rightfully enjoy everything there was. At the end of the hall, next to the throne, were a few armchairs, a table with a tea set and the pile of presents all mixed together. Eridanus saw that the presents from his friends were also there, and the box with Cypreus was put a little aside. He inwardly smirked at that. He spelled the box silent, so nobody would know who was inside.

"Please, indulge yourselves," Voldemort waved his hand at them, graciously sat down on his throne and poured himself a cup of tea, prepared to watch their ridiculous antics. The Dark Lord never gave presents and never cared for that tradition in general.

Eridanus rolled his eyes at the man and cheerfully dug into the pile, fishing out the gifts for the Lestranges. Both Rodolphus and Rabastan were touched by his thoughtful presents and didn't hide their obvious delight, to his endless pleasure. They both presented him with the family heirlooms that came from their mother: a charmed pendant in the shape of a rose, that could protect him from basic curses, and an antique hairbrush that was thought to have a magical ability of pushing the nightmares away from its master. Both objects were old and masterfully done, and Eridanus couldn't help but grin at his father and uncle. These small things connected him with his family even more.

He also opened the gifts from his friends, which amused both brothers, for the sweets had changed since their imprisonment, and they both indulged themselves in tasting everything. The Dark Lord raised a mocking eyebrow at Eridanus' offer to try some. The boy smirked at him, his eyes laughing. If it wasn't Yule he would have crucioed the brat, Voldemort gleefully mused. However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when Eridanus carefully addressed him.

"My lord," the boy stood on his knee at Voldemort's feet, looking straight into his eyes, that damned mischievous gleam dancing in his orbs, "Please, accept my little gift for you" with that he summoned the big wooden box to his side and moved the lid open. Voldemort warily put the cup away and tensed a little, but gestured for the boy to continue, feeling intrigued. His followers usually showered him with expensive gifts, but he knew Eridanus wasn't any follower.

"My lord, meet Cypreus," Eridanus reached into the box and took out the most stunning snake Voldemort had ever seen. Of course, he recognized the specimen as taipan but he never saw any copper snakes, as deeply and brilliantly copper as... Eridanus' hair. Cypreus meant copper. The brat brought him his own Copper. Voldemort chuckled and leaned forward.

"I must admit, little one, you do know how to surprise me," he smiled at Eridanus and the boy smiled at him in return with that soft kind smile of his that was so rare on his face. Rodolphus and Rabastan exchanged a perplexed look. Their lord and their boy were much closer than they thought.

Voldemort stretched his arm and Cypreus tentatively crawled onto it, looking intently at his new master, while he admired the snake in return. It was truly beautiful and already so big. Trust Eridanus to find a familiar for the Dark Lord.

::Master, you are a very powerful wizard, the brat didn't lie:: Cypreus finally hissed, satisfied with his examination. Voldemort snorted at that, clearly amused. ::He said he chose me because I was your clone in the snake skin:: Eridanus blushed fiercely at that and ducked his head, vowing silently to kick the snake for that later.

::Did he, now?:: Voldemort laughed openly and stroke the head of his new pet affectionately. Yes, Eridanus knew him very well indeed. ::You are a beautiful snake, Cypreus and I am very pleased with you. Would you bond with me?:: he hissed at him softly.

::Why are you even asking? The brat said any snake would kill to be yours, and I see why. I am not an idiot, you know::

Voldemort threw his head back and laughed again, longer this time. Cypreus huffed at the man but looked quite pleased with himself. Voldemort, still chuckling, draped Cypreus over his shoulders and smiled at Eridanus.

"Eridanus, I never thought I would say that to anyone, but thank you. Cypreus is a truly wonderful gift and a great familiar. You did well."

Eridanus blushed once again and stared at the floor. It was one thing to please Voldemort, but to hear him laugh and to hear him being grateful - that was something very unique and precious to Eridanus. He couldn't keep his lips from stretching into a wide pleased smile. A long pale finger pushed his chin up and his bright green eyes met the shining blood red ones of his master.

::You are such a good, good boy:: Voldemort gave him his little secret smile and, leaning closer, placed a gentle kiss on his scarred forehead. Eridanus shivered in pleasure as the wave of familiar sensation washed over him and small electric shocks shot through his skin. He gasped lightly and opened his eyes just in time to see the Dark Lord pulling away, looking very pleased with himself. He smiled at his master and stood up smoothly, and moved away to join his father and uncle, who were watching the scene with wide eyes and eyebrows raised high in bewilderment. He smiled at them sheepishly and poured himself some tea to hide his burning face behind the cup. Voldemort only smirked at them, caressing Cypreus all the while. He was very pleased to have Eridanus for the whole winter holidays, very pleased indeed.

**xxx**

Later that day the other death eaters of the Inner Circle started arriving, bringing their families with them. It was decided that the highest ranked followers proved themselves to be loyal and reliable, so they were permitted to see the Dark Lord's true face. Their spouses and heirs were to present themselves to Voldemort as well. Rodolphus assured Eridanus that he shouldn't worry, they all would be put under the binding vow and his identity would remain a secret beyond the fortress' walls. Eridanus felt excited about the upcoming celebration, glad to know that his friends would be there too. He walked into the hall just in time to meet the Malfoys. Draco immediately attacked him, chiding him that Eridanus never told him about the Dark Lord's resurrection. Eridanus only shrugged at the blonde and informed him that if his father couldn't tell Draco before today, then he especially had to keep his mouth shut. The blonde fumed but reluctantly agreed.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Lord Lestrange," Lucius shook his hand and smiled at him slyly, - We wish to congratulate you on your family reunion. Both Rodolphus and Rabastan look very good, it is a true miracle that they came back from Azkaban almost unscarred.

"It is a pleasure to see you again as well, Lord and Lady Malfoy," Eridanus kissed Narcissa's hand, "Thank you and yes, it is truly a miracle. I wish the same could be said about Bella. Fortunately, she is already strong enough to join us tonight," he was smiling at Draco's mother. Bellatrix was her younger sister, and Rodolphus told him that Narcissa had been exchanging letters with him during the time they'd spent here, worrying sick for her Bella, who has only recently woke up.

Unfortunately, Bella's sanity was a lost case, she had a hard time controlling her temper and sometimes lost the sense of time and space and forgot where she was. During these few days, Rodolphus spent almost all his time with her, which irritated Rabastan greatly. He told his son how he felt about his sister-in-law and how unworthy she was of her husband's care. Eridanus, who hadn't met Bella yet, decided that he wouldn't judge before he sees for himself. Then the Notts and Zabinis arrived, and Eridanus was introduced to his friends' parents. He caught the sight of Crabbes, Goyles and Flints, others he didn't know. Turned out that only the two of the Inner Circle didn't have any families: Severus Snape and Eric Mulciber. Mulciber was talking with Notts and Professor Snape simply didn't come to the celebration - he had to stay at Hogwarts.

During the time spent in the hall Rabastan introduced Eridanus to all the death eaters and their families, while Rodolphus went to fetch Bella. At dinner time, when everybody was finally present and ready, they were invited to have a light meal in the dining room while the elves would prepare everything for the Yule ceremony. Only when they all were seated at the table did Eridanus notice that many of the guests were eyeing him speculatively and even suspiciously. Rabastan watched them like a hawk, daring to say something - nobody volunteered.

When the food was served, Rodolphus entered the room, followed by his wife and Eridanus could finally take a good look at her. Bellatrix was a small finely curved woman with messy black curls of hair, framing her once beautiful face. She looked nothing like Narcissa but very much like Sirius. She also had angular features, long thin nose, dark grey eyes and softly curved jaw; only her lips were full and somewhat lecherous. Her face wore a mask of disdain towards everybody present and Eridanus could feel madness swirling inside her darkness. She was a powerful witch but it all was for naught if she couldn't control herself anymore. Rodolphus wisely placed her at the farthest end of the table and she payed the other Lestranges no heed during the dinner, probably haven't even noticed them at all.

They all gathered in the play room, waiting for the signal to go outside. The Yule bonfire was to be placed in the courtyard of the fortress where the doors of the said room led. Everybody kept chatting happily, anticipating the ceremony. Rabastan refused to tell Eridanus what was planned for the Yule night, only said that he would probably enjoy it very much. Everyone changed their attire to a more comfortable and warm robes, most coloured red or green. His father, though, made Eridanus put the golden one on, saying that it brought out his hair and eyes better. He could only laugh at the man; nobody, except Draco, ever payed attention to his wardrobe. They both wore golden robes, while Rabastan wore silver. He approached them carefully with his lips pursed firmly together. Judging by his strained expression, Eridanus concluded that his uncle wasn't going to relax this night. His wife was right behind him, sneering at Rabastan in disgust. She then turned her head and finally noticed Eridanus' existence.

"Isn't that the ickle Eridanus, now, the ex-Harry Potter? Little filthy half-blood," she sing-sang at him in that childish voice, with such a strong hostility, that he had to strain himself from flinching.

"Lady Lestrange," he greeted her curtly, bowing his head. Her face contorted as she lifted her upper lip and bared her teeth at him.

"Bella, you would hold you tongue," Rabastan warned her in a low voice. She only scoffed at him.

"Hold my tongue? You brought this scum here, into our Lord's new home! Perhaps, you finally felt like a man only after fucking his mudblood whore of a mother, if that is the case then accept my condolences, but I will not accept this little bastard scion of yours!" she was pointing at Eridanus with her index finger, not even looking at him, as if he was an inanimate object. He narrowed his eyes at her in anger and annoyance. He took a step forward and towered over Bella, being already taller than her.

"Dear aunt Bella, it is a pity that you wouldn't accept me, I do not play well with those who judge unfairly. Don't forget, though, that I am the head of our family right now and should you push just a little too far, you would suffer the consequences," he all but purred at her, venom dripping from his every word, "Ah, how could I miss this small detail? My godfather is the head of your family, my dear aunt, and should he hear one word from me of your improper behavior, you will find yourself disowned that instant," he gave her an icy glare that made his avada kedavra eyes gleam dangerously in the candle light. Bellatrix looked taken aback, while Rodolphus stood behind her with a smug smile on his lips and a proud look in his eyes addressed to his nephew. Rabastan put a calming hand on his son's shoulder and stirred him away from the couple.

"You did well, that will put her in her place for a while. But try not to provoke her in the future, alright? She is unstable and she can seriously harm you."

"Alright, but I can't promise not to hurt her in return, should she attack me."

"Fair enough," Rabastan nodded. They both went outside, followed by the crowd.

**xxx**

In the middle of the courtyard a huge bonfire was placed, high flames dancing merrily in the cold winter air. Everybody gathered around in a big circle and joined their hands, Eridanus found himself between Rabastan and Draco. The light of the fire played on the eager faces of the guests, making them look like wax masks. Eridanus could almost touch the thick air full of anticipation and excitement. Something was coming, but what he didn't know. Slowly a figure dressed in black emerged from behind the circle carrying a big log - Voldemort, Eridanus recognized him by the red eyes shining in the depth of the black shadow of his drawn hood. He placed the log into the fire, pushed his hood back, showing openly his face and smiled, his expression was one of a cruel excitement. He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture and opened the ceremony. He chanted the rhymed words calling for mother nature, the great spirits of the ancestors, the winter spirit, greeting them, asking to join the feast that their humble servants were to offer them. Everybody echoed his words, while he circled the bonfire whispering long incantations in latin.

Eridanus unconsciously followed everybody's example, chanting the same words again and again not able to stop or take his eyes off of the tall dark figure of his master. The air became vibrant, his darkness broke free and leaked through his pours making him sweat and shiver. He squeezed his father's hand and Rabastan squeezed back in reassurance. When the volume of their chanting began to grow and the flames seemed to roar higher and stronger, he felt the atmosphere around him shifted and changed, as if somebody else was there beside them, invisible, watching their ritual with curiosity. Finally they reached the highest pick and broke off the sounds of their voices almost abruptly. Voldemort stopped, looking mesmerized and smiled viciously at his followers.

"Let the Yule hunt begin," he said very quietly, but everybody heard him. Suddenly, all the mothers took their children inside, ushering them to a full christmas dinner, presents and games, while all the men gathered closer to the fire and their Lord, looking at him in admiration and hunger. Eridanus was the only child who stayed outside amongst the adults. Rabastan led him closer to the group of men.

"We will make a great sacrifice tonight, in the name of our ancestors, in the name of the dark, in the name of our magic," Voldemort spoke in a deep booming voice, holding everybody's attention firmly on his eyes, "We will hunt like our ancestors did, we will hunt those that below us, those that are weak and their lives would bring us victory and protection from the spirits guarding our peace. We hunt muggles tonight."

At those words someone led a group of bound muggles out of the side door and pulled them further from the courtyard, through the open archways and into the woods. The death eaters cheered and cried impatiently, grabbing their wands, fidgeting in their places. Voldemort watched them with a predatory smile on his face. When everything was ready and the muggles were set free, he raised his right hand and simply said, "Let the Yule hunt begin."

The wizards darted towards disoriented muggles who took off into the woods, hoping to get away. Rabastan squeezed his son's shoulder and ran off after his comrades. Eridanus didn't miss the insane hungry look in his father's eyes that woke a familiar itching inside of him. He felt his blood began burning in his veins and his head suddenly felt light and very clear. When he took a hesitant step forward, he felt a pair of strong hands on his shoulders and a hot breath tickling his ear.

"Go, little one, hunt like a true predator that you are. Let yourself go, be free tonight."

He turned to face his master, standing very close to him and watching him with this familiar intensity in his blood red eyes. Eridanus brushed his hand over Voldemort's and, smiling, turned around and ran into the woods, listening closely to the sounds of screams and cries in the dark. His heavy braid caught on the tree's naked branches, but he paid it no heed. He could see blood trails on the thin layer of snow, lit by the full moon.

He halted his running to stop the blood pounding in his ears, and stared into the black thick of the forest. He thought he saw a movement somewhere on the left. He held his breath and crouched, slowly closing in on the target. He saw her, a young woman, hiding behind a fallen tree, her clothes torn and her face scratched and bleeding. Eridanus felt adrenalin rushing in his veins and his body tensed in a lustful anticipation. He crawled closer and lay low, watching her. A robed figure ran past them. Then it was quiet again, distant screams echoed somewhere far on their right. The woman was trembling, crouched behind the bole of a tree, her wide eyes darting around in horror.

Eridanus wordlessly spelled himself to be soundless and crawled around and behind her, slowly getting closer. When he was just a few inches away, he canceled the spell and intentionally took a heavier step to make the snow crunch under his weight. She whirled around harshly, with a small shriek escaping her lips. He smiled at her viciously and leaned closer. The woman tried to push him away, but he easily overpowered her, straddling her and pinning her down to the ground. She started screaming madly, trying to get herself from underneath his weight, but he held her tight. Eridanus watched her tears and her terrified eyes, her dry cracked lips and her bitten and blooded tongue. He was seriously aroused and couldn't decide what to do to her first. He took out his wand and pushed it painfully against her throat.

"Should I simply crucio you or, perhaps, I should use something else? Something slower?" he looked at her inquiringly, as if expecting her to answer, "Yes, something slower... 'Cruor Peruro'," he hissed and a faint glow appeared on the tip of his wand and disappeared into her skin.

Her hoarse screams that came to a halt by that time, started all over with a new found strength. The spell made her blood burn ever so slightly, slowly increasing the fire. She started thrashing under his body, arching her back as high as she could, trying to overcome the dull growing pain. Her voice broke and she could only whimper and wail, while Eridanus rubbed against her, with his head thrown back in ecstasy. His own blood was burning not in pain but desire. When he felt that she was loosing her conscience, he canceled the curse and let her breathe and come back to her senses, caressing her cheek with his fingers and looking at her with a cruel affection in his eyes.

She watched him, terror clearly written on her blooded face. When his caresses turned into scratching, she managed to rasp out, "You are a boy, you are just a boy, why are you doing this to me? My son is just a little younger than you are. You shouldn't... you don't have to do this," she trailed off, breaking into hysterical sobs.

"Don't you lie to me, pretty, I know that you don't have any children, you're not even married," he looked at her, amused by the mere thought that she tried to trick him, when he could read her mind like an open book. She sobbed even louder and tried to break free again, but her body was too weak and her limbs didn't really listen to her. Eridanus smiled at her.

"Now, let's carry on with our little entertainment," he conjured a knife and she screeched at the sight of it. He cackled and slowly drew a long cut on her chest, and then another one, and another, rubbing his hard erection against her. Her body shook and jerked under his painful cuts and she kept on wailing, helplessly struggling for freedom. Suddenly, Eridanus stood up and took a few steps back, looking at her hungrily, with a cunning expression on his face.

"I've decided to let you go, bird. Go on, now, flee!" he shouted cheerfully. The woman stared at him in shock and disbelief but struggled up on her feet nevertheless. He nodded approvingly and waved his hand impatiently at her, hurrying her to escape. She staggered a little and looked around - they were alone in complete dark and silence. She took off abruptly, whimpering in pain and exhaustion, but kept moving.

He let her run a dozen feet away and followed, his blood pulsing hard in his groin, his arousal painfully pressed against the fabric of his clothes. He followed her silently, hiding in the shadows, gleefully watching her back. Her dripping blood shone brightly under the moonlight. Finally she realized that she got lost. Everywhere she turned was darkness. She stopped and put her arms around her trembling body, trying desperately to warm herself. Eridanus emerged from behind her. Clouds of her short hot breaths melted in the air around her.

"Are you lost, bird?"

She turned around slowly, knowing all too well that her hopes were futile, that he played her, cruelly giving her an illusion of freedom only to shatter it into pieces later.

"Don't look so sad, you knew what was coming," he shook his head at her and walked closer. She backed away but fell hard on the snow and started crying and sobbing again, mumbling prayers through the snot and tears in her mouth, "There is no god to save you, pretty, there is only me," Eridanus said softly and smiled at her.

The next moment he lashed out fast as a lightning and slashed the knife deep across her stomach, making her insides fall out. She screeched and tried to crawl away, but her blood was running out too fast and she couldn't move anymore. Eridanus fell on his knees next to her, panting and stroking himself vehemently. Before she bled out and let out her last breath, he drew the knife across her neck and blood poured out of her mouth and she choked on it, bubbling and coughing softly. He came and fell on her blooded corpse in exhaustion and pleasure, moaning loudly. Salazar, how good it felt.

Eridanus was the last one to return to the bonfire. Everybody gathered there, threw hearts and livers into the flames and bowed down before it, addressing the spirits gratefully. Eridanus saw his father and uncle standing not far from the fire, conversing quietly, both had their hands and hems of their robes covered in blood. He came closer smiling wildly at them. Rabastan raised his eyebrows at the sight of his son soaked in blood from head to toes, golden robes turned into dark brown. Rodolphus laughed loudly, gaining everybody's attention. He patted Eridanus on the shoulder, still laughing.

"My dear nephew, you never cease to surprise us!"

Everybody stared at the blooded Lestrange heir and his trophy - the woman's head, that he held by the the long locks of the hair. Her face was frozen in an expression of true horror and unbearable pain. Fresh blood was still dripping from her opened mouth and the well cut neck. Voldemort, whose face was also smeared with red, came closer and smiled at the boy, amused and very pleased.

"I believe you have to throw it into the fire, little one, and thank the spirits for their protection," he couldn't stop smiling at the teen's satisfied and a little distracted look. The boy was high and completely out of it. He gently pushed him to the bonfire and Eridanus obediently threw the head into the flames and mumbled the necessary words. His darkness purred and clung to Voldemort affectionately. The Dark Lord chuckled at the boy who leaned into him.

"I think it was enough for today, my dear lord Lestrange," he gave him a knowing smile but his eyes burned with lust. Eridanus was just so alluring, so innocent and sinful at the same time, the Dark Lord barely held his hands in place.

Rabastan didn't miss his master's tensed shoulders and intense stare and he smoothly pulled his son away from him, while Rodolphus helpfully stepped between them and distracted their Lord with the tale of how exactly Eridanus played with his victim - both brothers finished theirs fast and followed their heir to watch him hunt. While Rodolphus fed Voldemort the delicious details, Rabastan quickly took Eridanus into the hall, where all the children darted out of their way, taking in the Lestranges appearances. Draco, Blaise and Theo gaped at their friend in shock and horror. They knew what their parents were doing on the Yule nights and they knew that they would have to do the same but only when they were of age. But Eridanus was their coeval and he, obviously, participated in the hunt willingly, and, judging by his looks, they concluded that it wasn't his first kill. They shivered and shared a knowing look. He was the one who killed the ravenclaw girl. The famous child of Light, Harry Potter, was a cruel and vicious murderer.

Rabastan took Eridanus into his room and pushed him into the bathroom. Hearing the sound of the running water, he left, spelling the door closed behind him. Not that it would hold off the hard and lustful Dark Lord, but he had to use everything he could to keep his son unharmed. He knew perfectly well that his master wanted to take the boy and only his regained sanity was keeping him in check and made him act discreetly around the child. Rabastan could only hope that he would be able to wait until Eridanus grew a little older and was able to make his own choice in the matter. There was no doubt that the boy would be taken, forcibly or willingly, didn't matter, the question was when? He came back to the courtyard, where everybody had already started drinking and celebrating. The Dark Lord was surrounded by the female part of the crowd and, although his irritation was evident on his face, he couldn't simply escape them. Rabastan let out a long breath. Rodolphus came to his side with an understanding look in his eyes.

"How long do you think it would take him to break and have our boy in his bed?" he watched his brother's sour face sadly, knowing all too well what thoughts were running through his mind.

"It is Eridanus' luck he is at school most of the time. For now I will be able to hold him back. But I'm afraid his patience would wear thin very soon. I only hope that the strange connection that formed between them would keep our Lord from hurting Eridanus. You know how he is: he takes you, he breaks you and then forgets you exist. Eridanus is too young, and he is a very affectionate child, he would take it close to his heart and it would surely break."

"Something is going on between them," Rodolphus nodded, "Something very strange. The way our master acts around the boy is completely out of his character, and I'm not talking about his sanity. It looks as if he is a different person when Eridanus is around. It puzzles me. Lucius told me what happened when Eridanus was marked. They certainly share more than one bond," he shook his head, looking pensive, frowning.

"Yes, I've noticed," Rabastan agreed and took a look at his master, who was still being assaulted by females, "It is somehow connected with Eridanus' parsel-abilities. I don't know how, I don't know why, but they share some of their magical powers and their cores are quite similar. Which is impossible. Unless our Lord performed some kind of a ritual that night which, probably, led to his disappearance in the end."

"Do you think he would ever tell us?" Rodolphus asked, looking at his brother, who hunched his shoulders and was scowling at his own feet.

"No. Neither he, nor Eridanus would ever tell us, of that I have no doubts. One thing I am sure of is that the Dark Lord can't kill Eridanus."

"I agree," Rodolphus said quietly and looked at their Lord. Whatever there was between him and their boy, they wouldn't let him hurt Eridanus. Family came first in the house of Lestrange.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, underage sex, M/M slash._

_A/N: I got carried away with all the mushy stuff. I apologize._

* * *

Eridanus woke up the next morning feeling very very good, like he never felt before. The Yule magic worked wonderfully. He stretched in his bed lazily and then sat up, deciding that he had enough of rest. He climbed out of the bed and found himself face to face with Cypreus. Eridanus owlishly blinked at him not comprehending what would the snake want from him.

::Good morning, Cypreus, whatever you doing here?::

::Master sent me to check up on you, brat. He said I could wake you if you slept in again. Breakfast is in five minutes:: he hissed, clearly annoyed to be sent to supervise the boy.

Eridanus chuckled at him ::So now he would be tormenting me through you, I suppose. Alright, I'm going:: he stood up at Cypreus' angry hisses, threw on his plain black robe and went out, holding the door for the snake. Cypreus haughtily crawled past him, glaring on his way, and proceeded ahead into the dining room. Eridanus followed him, smiling at his antics. When they entered, Cypreus instantly went to his master and was carefully draped over the broad shoulders of the Dark Lord.

"My lord," Eridanus fell on his knee and kissed his robes. He didn't see his father and uncle but he paid it no mind. It was quite early, they went to bed much later than he did, so they had probably slept in. He shrugged and sat down at the table when his master dismissed him.

"So, have you bonded with Cypreus already?" he asked Voldemort nonchalantly, pouring himself his morning coffee. The Dark Lord, who hadn't said one word to him yet, only watched him, with some indecipherable emotion in his blood red eyes. His darkness was also suspiciously calm, even subdued. Eridanus' eyes narrowed at that. Something was clearly wrong.

"We did," his master finally drawled, still watching him, "Yesterday, we performed the bonding ritual during the hunt," Eridanus nodded at that, watching the man out of the corner of his eye. That meant they used the blood of a muggle that Voldemort killed. Yesterday was a success and the Dark Lord bonded with his new familiar - why was he displeased? Why his company felt so... precarious?

Voldemort knew perfectly well what had Rabastan done yesterday. He wasn't going to give in to temptation, but the fact, that the Lestranges dared to take the child right out of his arms and hide him from his master, made him furious. So, they doubted their Lord, thought him incompetent? They dared to take what was his? His possessiveness of the boy was blinding, he knew that, but he couldn't and didn't really want to fight it. He clenched his jaws and glared at clueless Eridanus.

"If I may, my lord?" Eridanus decided to try his rotten luck.

"Yesss," Voldemort hissed menacingly. Cypreus swayed in glee on his shoulders. The snake seemed to be high on his master's emotions.

"I have no idea what happened yesterday that upsets you so, my lord," he tentatively looked at Voldemort with his bright green innocent eyes, "But I would help you if you told me how," he bowed his head respectfully. The Dark Lord tsked and looked away. And there was this feeling again. Eridanus' sincerity towards him always surprised him and made him warm inside. It was like the boy was talking with Tom and not with the dangerous Dark Lord. Why wasn't he afraid of him, he had tortured him, ruthlessly, still, Eridanus wasn't cowering, wasn't running.

"You once asked me about my goals, our cause," Voldemort said suddenly, out of nowhere, trying to shake off all these complex emotions he had become so unused to, "I thought we could use this time to discuss it."

He looked at Eridanus and the boy simply nodded in agreement. Voldemort summoned their winter cloaks and waved for him to follow. They went outside and slowly walked to the bright, serene forest, that was so dark and gloomy yesterday, filled with screams of agony. Cypreus softly hissed under the master's cloak, reveling in the heat of the body. Eridanus unintentionally moved closer to the Dark Lord, and as they walked, their thighs brushed slightly against each other. Neither of them seemed to mind. Deep in the thick of the forest, they halted their pace and Voldemort finally broke their silence.

"Do you remember the part of the prophecy about you 'healing' me?" he was looking at the horizon that was barely seen between the thick trees.

"After you've regained your body with my help, you've also regained your sanity and now you're doubting yourself and the choices you've made before?" Eridanus asked softly. He replayed everything Anguis told him in his head and thought that, perhaps, after ten years of not living but simply watching, Tom had made some serious conclusions and saw Salazar's and his own work in a different light?

"I hate you for being the insightful brat, that you are," Voldemort spat angrily, "But this is exactly what's going on."

He crossed his arms over his chest and bored his eyes into the boy's, fuming.

"And you need my help?" Eridanus smiled at him despite himself. He just couldn't believe that Tom actually found the courage to ask, swallowed his pride to ask for help.

"I didn't ask for help," he hissed icily. Of course not, Eridanus mused, still smiling.

"If you tell me what you had done before and how you see it now, I will help you to correct the mistakes and improve your cause."

"You're a thirteen year old boy," Voldemort scoffed, "How can YOU help me?"

"Your younger self asked me the same question, when we conversed through the journal... Perhaps, nobody ever really helped you before, so you can't accept the fact that it is possible at all."

"And you would know this, how?" Voldemort looked at him incredulously. How Eridanus could be so young and sound so old and wise? Why was he even listening to him, of all people? He had a whole lot of them advisors and cunning politicians to listen to and take advice from and yet, here he was, walking in the woods with a bloody boy.

"Tom," the man glared at him, enraged at the mentioning of his name, and took a warning step towards him, "Tom, nobody ever helped me as well, so I know exactly how precious it is, to have somebody who would accept you for who you are and would be willing to help you no matter what," with that Eridanus stepped close to Tom, who was ready to curse him, and embraced him tightly, squeezing himself into his thin frame, fisting his hands into his cloak, and ducked his head under Tom's chin.

Voldemort stiffened and his first instinct was to push the boy away, but the sensation of their connection, or whatever that was, washed over him and he closed his eyes, resentfully. After a few minutes of keeping this uncomfortable position he finally admitted his defeat to the warmth and affection of Eridanus' embrace and slowly relaxed. His arms rose on their own accord and enveloped the boy, holding him tightly. Voldemort sighed tiredly and buried his nose into the soft copper hair.

"How can you... how do you know all this?" he finally whispered, his words muffled by the thick locks.

"I know that you read Salazar's works. Anguis told me how they've changed you. He didn't want me to find the library, he was afraid the same would happen to me as well. You were alone and there was nobody their to guide you, to support you, you were a child. Like I am. Only I have you, and now you have me. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't have my family, I wouldn't have my darkness and I wouldn't have you. Don't you see? I healed you when I vanquished you and you've made me the child of the darkness. We have already fulfilled that damned prophecy," Eridanus whispered back. He nuzzled in the crook of Tom's neck, and inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of his master. Tom smelled of apples, blood and old books. Cypreus, who had discreetly crawled down on the ground when they embraced, watched the two of them curiously, shivering in the cold, but staying silent.

Tom didn't say anything. His eyes were still closed. He felt Eridanus' warm breath on his neck and pulled him even closer than it was possible. It was the second time in his life he had held somebody in his arms and was held back, and both times it was Eridanus.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," he finally found the right words, "But I don't regret them. I am simply enduring their consequences now and it makes me see what exactly went wrong and when."

"I know," Eridanus breathed against his skin and it sent shivers down Voldemort's spine. The Dark Lord buried his nose deeper into the copper locks, reveling in their softness and uneven smell of mint. They stood in silence again, feeling comfortable in each other's arms against the cold winter air.

"I want to torture you," Voldemort hissed gently, "All these emotions overwhelm me. I want to make you scream, because you make me feel. Feeling makes me weak."

"If it helps you, I would scream for you," Eridanus looked up into his master's eyes. He was seriously ready to go through cruciatus, he knew Tom needed it. He could feel the need in the man's body and soul, it all but screamed at him.

"You spoil me," Voldemort murmured, lost in the bright green avada kedavra orbs.

Eridanus chuckled at that, shaking his head in amusement. Voldemort quirked corners of his mouth and kissed Eridanus on the scar. The familiar electric sparkle shot through their skin on skin contact. Eridanus smiled and sighed contently, closing his eyes. Voldemort didn't pull away. He placed another kiss on the scar and another, enjoying the heat and the pleasure of the sensation. Their darkness united and became one. He tilted his head down and kissed Eridanus gently on the cheek, and on the nose, and on the other cheek. The boy only gasped and leaned closer. The gentle featherlight kisses of another human being were something unbelievably magical. Eridanus hesitantly kissed Tom on his cheek. The taste of his skin on his lips made him open his eyes wide, his eyelashes palpitate in pleasure. Voldemort pushed his forehead against Eridanus'.

"I want to hear you scream in pain. I need it. And then we will talk, I will tell you everything," he hissed demandingly, but softly, almost kindly.

"Alright," Eridanus nodded. Their darkness enveloped them in a black whirlpool and a second later they apparated to the hall.

**xxx**

Rabastan couldn't find Eridanus anywhere. His room was empty, his breakfast left unfinished in the dining room. The library was also deserted. He rubbed his hair in exasperation and worry. His Lord was probably very angry at him for what he did yesterday. And no doubt he was punishing Eridanus for that, for it would simply hurt Rabastan more. On one hand he was proud that his son was already serving the dark, but on the other, he couldn't help but mourn the boy's youth, that was going to be destroyed by the needy and possessive, unforgiving master. He was walking past the hall, lost in his bitter thoughts, when he heard the weak hoarse screams, that slowly turned into whimpers. His head shot up and he hastily approached the doors that stood ajar. He peeked in and had to hold his breath, for what he saw didn't really look like torture, but something much more complex.

Eridanus had been thrashing on the floor for more than 40 seconds. Voldemort sat close beside him on his knees and was grinning madly at him.

"Scream, my little one, I need to hear you scream," he hissed gently, looking into the wide green eyes, full of pain.

Eridanus, unable to hold it any longer let out a low cry. The Dark Lord strengthened the curse and the hurting became even worse. Eridanus screamed on the verge of his lungs and fisted his wet copper hair in his hands, trying to take the pain away from his skull, but it didn't help. Tears were running down his cheeks as his body kept convulsing violently. He was bleeding.

It was two minutes and ten seconds when his screams turned into hoarse whimpers. Voldemort finally canceled the curse and crawled closer to Eridanus. The boy was still shaking and his eyes lost their focus; hands still clenched into fists, tangled in his hair. Voldemort gently took him into his arms. Now he felt much, much better. He used a parsel-spell to ease the pain in the boy's body and Eridanus limbs finally relaxed. The Dark Lord carefully unclenched his hands and put them away. He pushed the copper hair back, away from the pale exhausted face. Gently caressing the soft skin of the boy's cheek, he kissed the scar. Eridanus sighed, and breathing deeply, leaned into his master's body and rested his head on the firm shoulder.

He reached out and touched Voldemort's face, tracing the curves with his fingertips. He followed the contour of delicate red lips, that kissed his fingers, sending shivers into his arm. Voldemort caught the boy's fingers with his hand and squeezed them, kissing them again, watching Eridanus' face carefully. Eridanus gave him a small smile and nuzzled his face into the crook of Voldemort's neck. He was worn out, the pain, though dull, still lingered in his body. He could feel content and satisfaction coming in waves from his master. He sighed.

"You did very well, my little one," Voldemort breathed into his ear, kissing it and sucking lightly on the earlobe. Eridanus hadn't had enough strength to talk, he simply sighed again and kissed the neck's sensitive skin that was under his lips. He felt his master shiver in pleasure.

"You're tired, Eridanus, I will take you to your room, you need rest," the Dark Lord whispered and apparated them away.

Rabastan could only stare at the empty space. His Lord wasn't simply interested in his son. He was clearly obsessed with him. No, he would even dare to say that the Dark Lord was in love. However, his love was of the most unnatural and sick kind. He wondered if Eridanus felt the same way. To endure and welcome torture one must be either scared, or insane, or in love. He shook his head in bewilderment. How had it all happened? Was anything like this even possible? Could love really be that cruel and that painful?

**xxx**

Voldemort carefully put Eridanus down on the bed. The boy watched him with the half-lidded eyes. He covered him with a blanket and, giving his cheek the last tentative caress, turned to leave.

"Stay," Eridanus called for him weakly. He really didn't want Tom to go. If he could he'd rather stay in his arms forever.

Voldemort looked at him uncertainly. Should he stay or would it be better to keep away? They needed to talk, it was inevitable. Perhaps they could kill both birds with one stone... He sighed and sat down on the bed, next to the boy. But Eridanus reached out with his hand and pulled him closer, almost over himself. Voldemort shifted and soon was embraced once again.

They lay on their sides, enveloped in each other's arms, Eridanus' head next to Voldemort's neck, his breathing caressing the sensitive skin. Why was it so comfortable and soothing, to stay like this, Voldemort mused. He felt Eridanus kissing his neck lightly, almost unnoticeably. He closed his eyes and sighed contently. Raising his hand he began stroking the copper hair. He never felt so comfortable with anybody before. He never wanted to make somebody comfortable, to caress somebody... Salazar, he never stroke or held or shared a bed with anyone! Of course he had his share of lovers, but he barely ever touched them, using them only for his own physical pleasure, simply taking them ruthlessly and throwing them away afterwards. He never felt anything except the painful pleasure of release.

But Eridanus made him feel the whole specter of emotions. Perhaps it was just his sanity? When he was in his previous half-human, half-creature state he rarely found pleasure in sex, let alone other's company. But now, being healthy and human he still was cold and apathetic towards everyone. Except Eridanus. The boy waltzed into his life and set his soul on fire. And now, lying here in his arms, being kissed by him, it all scared Voldemort. The boy affected him so... He could clearly decipher that all these emotions were his own. Reaching out through their link he searched for Eridanus' feelings and found a hurricane of emotions that made his head spin. However, they were quite similar to his own, yet seemed different. Perhaps it simply depended on their age difference. Eridanus was a child and Voldemort could be considered an old man. He hesitantly cupped the boy's face with his hand and drew his head up to look into the green eyes. Eridanus opened his eyes and met the blood red ones.

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Because there is nothing that I fear," Eridanus said softly, but Voldemort saw something shift in the green orbs.

"You're lying. Everybody is afraid of something. And I see you are. What is it?"

"What are you afraid of?" Eridanus tried to change the direction of the conversation.

"You know what, death. Now, tell me," Voldemort was adamant.

"I am not afraid of you. I am afraid of..." he trailed off and lowered his eyes, embarrassed and uncomfortable to tell the truth. He felt his chin being pushed up and he had to look at his master once again.

"Tell me, or I will find out on my own," he was watching him carefully trying to understand what could be the child afraid of that was worse than death? Surely if he could admit that, the boy had nothing to hide, not from him.

"I am afraid of your disappointment in me, that you would reject me or discard of me, that I would be useless to you and you would lose your interest in me," Eridanus sighed heavily, closing his eyes, for the first time admitting the truth, "I am afraid to lose you."

Voldemort was stunned into silence. This was a foreign concept to him - to be afraid to lose someone, he always used people carelessly, knowing all too well that they were replaceable. Though, when he thought about it, he realized that he wanted to keep Eridanus, even before they heard the prophecy, he wanted to keep him by his side, to have him to himself. Was he afraid to lose the child? What would he feel if Eridanus left him? Technically it was impossible but still, theoretically? He would be angry, sure, he would feel betrayed, of course. And then there was something else. A pang in his heart at the thought that there would be no letters, no torture sessions, no smiles, no embraces, no kisses. He couldn't even remember when was the last time his heart ached, so long ago it was. And now it ached at the mere thought of something that was impossible.

"You would never leave me," he said it out loud, though it wasn't his intention.

"No," Eridanus said simply, his eyes were still closed but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"What's so amusing?" Voldemort frowned.

"You don't want to lose me," now his smile was evident and what a warm and beautiful smile it was. Voldemort wanted to take it away, to make it his, so that nobody ever could see it. The Dark Lord didn't share.

He leaned closer and their lips touched. Eridanus felt a jolt of adrenaline in his body. Tom's lips were so soft, so pleasant to the touch. He pulled closer trying to feel Tom's lips better. Voldemort sighed and parted his lips slightly to cover more of the boy's. He pulled out his tongue and brushed it against them, gaining a soft moan from Eridanus. The boy tasted blissfully sweet. So innocent, so pure. No amount of spilt blood could deprive him of that. He kissed him again, licking his lips, asking for permission to enter. Eridanus moaned again and complied. Their tongues touched and Voldemort deepened the kiss even more, as if trying to devour his mouth.

Their bodies shifted in pleasure and soon Eridanus found himself pinned down under the weight of the thin but strong body of his master. When they finally parted to catch their breaths, Voldemort couldn't take his eyes away from the boy's, shinning, burning with passion, pleasure, affection. And all this was for him, was his. He attacked the boy's lips again, entering instantly, hungrily. Eridanus's hot tongue tentatively reached out to explore his mouth and Voldemort growled with pleasure. Panting, he pulled away to look at the boy again. Eridanus was blushing fiercely, his eyes glazed, lips parted, a sigh escaping them.

"I've never kissed before," he breathed out. Voldemort couldn't hide his amusement and smiled at him.

"I haven't done it in about 50 years, so I believe we're even," that made Eridanus laugh softly, his breath brushed against Voldemort's lips urging him to kiss the boy again.

Eridanus moved his hands to cup both Tom's cheeks and smiled at him softly, affectionately. And there was this pang in the heart again, only now it left a pleasant pain behind. Voldemort felt his face becoming hot in the heat of the boy's hands. Eridanus looked cold but was very warm to the touch. Everything about him was contradicting and puzzling. Their lips touched again and Voldemort pulled his arms around Eridanus' body tighter, bringing their bodies even closer, his thighs pushing between the boy's. Eridanus gasped into the kiss and bit Voldemort's lower lip, drawing blood. Voldemort growled, pleased. The taste of hot and bitter blood in their mouths drove Eridanus insane. He whimpered into his master's mouth and shifted underneath him.

He knew where this was going. He promised himself he would wait, he was strong enough to wait, he could hold himself. Voldemort groaned and pulled away completely, rolling onto his back to lie beside the boy. He tried to steady his breathing and clear his head but it proved to be difficult. Eridanus propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Voldemort uncertainly.

"What's wrong?"

"You are too young. I had to stop myself before it was too late," Voldemort bit out. His obvious arousal didn't help.

"Oh," was all Eridanus could say. Honestly, he wasn't thinking about sex and his age and their interaction... All this was so new for him, so fascinating. He didn't even consider that Voldemort could actually take him and probably even hurt him. He rubbed his hair in exasperation. He wanted more of this, he wanted to know what's it like to come from somebody's caress and kiss, not only murder and torture. Though he understood he wasn't really ready. He was too young, true. Sighing sadly he squeezed himself into Voldemort's side.

"I understand. Thank you," he whispered. Voldemort nodded. Eridanus' hand found his and the boy's fingers traced the sensitive skin of his palm. The Dark Lord turned his head to look at the boy.

"If you still want to talk, we should move into my study."

"Alright," he mumbled, still tracing the lines on the pale veined skin, reveling in the sensation of their contact.

Reluctantly, Voldemort rose and stood up from the bed. Eridanus dragged himself up and followed his master out and further down the corridor into the study.

**xxx**

Voldemort sat in the armchair before the fireplace, with a glass of brandy in his hand. His other hand was stroking Eridanus' hair. The boy sat beside him on the carpet, leaning onto his outstretched legs, his head in his master's lap. Long fingers carded through the copper locks, massaging his scalp. Eridanus closed his eyes and purred, his darkness embraced Voldemort, caressing him. The Dark Lord, relaxing into its gentle touch, dropped his head back and closed his eyes, sighing.

"When I once told you that we have a lot in common I didn't lie," he began quietly, "I also grew up in a muggle orphanage, and I was also severely abused. My childhood took place during the Second World War, the time of constant starvation, cold and fear. I think my fear of death developed there, after spending sleepless nights under the falling bombs. Just like you I was abused because I was weaker and because I was different. And just like you, when I found my darkness I improved my situation."

"However, when I entered the wizarding world, the ignorant and easily impressed eleven year old that I was, I found that I was still different. Even here I couldn't be accepted by others. So I realized that the world needed to be changed, for I was never going to bend to their standards and their ideals. I wanted justice, equality for those who were like me. But those were few and weak, so weak... I hate weakness. Being the supreme race that we are we can't afford such mundane feelings as weakness, fear, cowardice, desperation. And yet these are the exact feelings I manipulate my followers through, these make my followers my servants. I hated muggles, loathed them, because I knew what they were, their true nature. Of course, one would say you can't judge everyone by a few, but the nation is judged by its leader so it's a useless dispute."

"Of course I realized it would be impossible to eliminate them, I saw their weapons, I saw the scale of the destruction they could cause. They were simply dangerous. I wanted to secure our world, the Statue of Secrecy was already being ignored at that time. All those light wizards embracing the muggleborns and their families and their neighbors and so on and so on. Originally, I planned to take the muggleborns away from their families, to bring them up in the wizarding world right from the start, so that there wasn't a place for ignorance and abuse. However, when I discovered Salazar's work, my perspectives somewhat changed. He performed multiple experiments with blood types of different kinds of wizards to establish the connection between the blood and the magical power. The results were astonishing: muggleborns were almost mutants, their magic couldn't be seen natural, like ours. True, they could be powerful, but their magic always took its tall on them in the end, their life span was of a muggle, they barely lived past 70. What was more, muggleborns' blood weakened the blood of the other non-muggleborn wizard, often producing squibs or sick children who weren't powerful enough to live through illnesses."

"Thus, because muggleborns were weaker, and their numbers grew, why though nobody knew, the level of education was lowered to put everybody in the equal positions regarding their future upon graduating from schools. Muggleborns actively married and reproduced with purebloods and half-bloods which led to the weakening of generations. And that led to abandoning the old magic, the more complex kind of power. Those few who refused to breed with impure and tried to keep their blood clean and, obviously, were powerful enough to wield the old magic, were shunned and feared. As the majority of the pure wizards was dark, simply because the dark magic requires much more powers then the light or the neutral, the everlasting war between the Light and the Dark began."

"And as my war progressed I became more and more desperate, because our numbers were drastically small comparing to those of the light and the neutral, who fought against us more often than not. I tried to subdue muggleborns into fear by hunting them down and killing them like Salazar did. But it didn't work. I knew then that it would take decades to accomplish everything I planned. Thus, I created more horcruxes, to ensure that I would be able to resurrect myself in the course of many years should I die in the battle. The more horcruxes I've made the less human I became. The less rational and patient I became. In my desperation of the rebuff of my revolution I craved for more power, to rid myself of desperation and fear. So I used some of Salazar's rituals to empower myself even more. But the black magic demands a great price. I wouldn't have lost my sanity because of the horcruxes, nor would I have lost most of my emotions. They all were taken by the forces beyond this plane, realm, world, whatever you call it. The black magic fed on the remains of my soul, on my body, slowly destroying me. I was a rotting corpse by the time we've had our encounter."

"Have you absorbed one of your horcruxes when you performed a ritual of resurrection?" Eridanus finally spoke, mesmerized by the long monologue of his master.

"Yes. To resurrect directly from a horcrux I only need to take another's soul, and my body would be restored. But I was already a spirit within the vessel, with no anchor, and couldn't do that, was able only to possess another's soul. So I had to invent a resurrection ritual based on the black magic, but absorbed a horcrux to regain my sanity back. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to predict what would happen, would have been out of control."

"Why did Salazar turn to the black magic? He was so powerful, wielded elemental magic... what else could he want?" Eridanus asked, confused.

"I don't know," Voldemort admitted, "He had a genius scientific mind, perhaps he lost the ability to stop, to see reason. It is easy to get carried away when you meddle with such forces. Besides, just like our darkness, the black magic is addictive."

"I won't let you use it anymore," Eridanus said firmly. Voldemort snorted at that. He sipped his brandy.

"And how are you planning to do that?"

"I will be keeping an eye on you. I have my ways," the boy whispered mischievously. Voldemort rolled his eyes at that but smiled nevertheless. He still kept carding his fingers through Eridanus' hair which made the boy purr from time to time. They sat in silence for some time. Voldemort finished his drink and was now twirling the glass between his fingers absentmindedly. Eridanus sighed and finally moved away to turn to his master.

At Voldemort's questioning glance he put his chin on the man's knee and said, "Now I know everything I need. I will help you, I promise," his eyes were full of sincerity and determination. Voldemort smiled at him wryly.

"You've already helped me, little one," he caressed his cheek, "But I'm pleased to see the determination in your eyes, not many of my followers kept the fire of their's burning."

"I will never leave you or betray you," Eridanus leaned into the touch.

"I know," his master said simply. As if he would let him anyway.

**xxx**

It was dinner when Rabastan finally saw Eridanus. His son looked fine, well rested in fact. Both Rabastan and Rodolphus were at the table, Eridanus joined them. The Dark Lord was absent. The food was served and they ate in silence. It had been broken by Cypreus who crawled into the room and demanded Eridanus to drape him around his shoulders. He was grumping about how the two of them left him in the woods, how he almost froze to death while they were snogging. Eridanus couldn't help it - he laughed out loud, petting the irritated snake. The brothers perked up at that.

"So, what have you been doing all day, nephew?" Rodolphus asked, carefully watching the smiling boy. Rabastan told him what he saw in the hall.

"Our lord and I talked about the cause. His goals. I now know what I serve," Eridanus smirked.

"And how did the talk... go? Were you tortured?" Rodolphus didn't really know how to ask the boy about it.

"Yes, but it's fine, he needed it," he smiled at them and sipped his tea. The brothers looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Eridanus, what did he do to you?" Rabastan deadpanned.

"What do you mean?" his son raised his eyebrows at that.

"Did he touch you? Did he hurt you? Beside the cruciatus, of course."

"Mmm, if you are asking whether he raped me or not, then no, he didn't," Eridanus was clearly amused. Did they really think Voldemort would do that? He was sane enough to stop. Both Lestranges let out breaths they were holding and their tensed shoulders fell down.

"Do you enjoy being tortured?" Rabastan tentatively asked still curious about the scene at the hall.

"Only when our Lord tortures me, yes. He always heals me afterwards and... holds me," Eridanus looked down, blushing. He'd go through thousands of cruciatuses to be held and kissed by Voldemort. It was a small price to pay the way he saw it.

"Holds you?" Rodolphus asked incredulously.

"Well, he likes making me scream and causing me pain, but he, ah, cares for me? Listen, he gained his sanity back, so even if he jerks off at torturing me he won't hurt me, you shouldn't worry about that."

The brothers shared a surprised look. So these two were a sadist and a masochist who enjoyed each other's company?

"What are your feelings towards your master?" Rabastan asked. He needed to know that Eridanus comprehended what he was doing.

"I am not a slave and I am not bewitched if that is what you are referring to," he smiled at his father, amused, "I like him, we are friends."

"Friends?" Rodolphus almost choked on his tea.

"Well, even the big bad Dark Lord can have friends. You should really talk to the man more often. He's fun to be around. Seriously, though, he really is great. And I enjoy his company immensely. Yes, he is not perfect and a little nuts, but that is to be expected, of course," Eridanus drawled nonchalantly. At the sight of his father's and uncle's shocked faces he laughed and scratched Cypreus' head, who had been listening to the conversation and was hissing in his snake kind of laugh as well.

"Eridanus," Rabastan regained his composure, "You must understand, our Lord is not a sensitive man, even though his sanity is intact, that doesn't mean that his emotions are. He can hurt you and I don't mean physically, but he can break your heart and this can't be healed by magic," he looked seriously worried and pained. Eridanus sighed, feeling sorry for his father and pleased that he cared about his feelings.

"I understand. I do. But you are wrong about him. He does have emotions, he feels. Although he suffers from it. He got so unused to feeling and caring that he's simply afraid of it now. But he just needs time to adjust. Believe me and my judgement," he gave them both a serious determined look. Rodolphus quirked his eyebrow at that. Rabastan looked at his son intently. The boy was so confident of his own words, perhaps... he was right? He was the one who helped their Lord resurrect after all. He probably knew better.

"Would you honestly tell me what happened between he two of you?"

"We walked in the forest, we hugged, he tortured me, then we lay together embracing each other and kissed. A lot. And then we talked. That's all," he said simply, looking innocent for all the world. Rabastan's eyes were wide, while Rodolphus gaped. Embraced? Kissed? Their Lord never let anybody touch him, even in bed the contact was strictly limited.

"And you liked that?" Rabastan confirmed.

"Of course, who wouldn't? The kissing was so... magical," Eridanus said dreamily. Cypreus hissed that he felt sick from all that mushy stuff and informed the boy he was glad he didn't have to see it.

"Alright, if you really enjoy his... attention and you are sure that is what you want, I won't pressure you about it," Rabastan concluded.

"You never cease to surprise me, little nephew," Rodolphus chuckled, still recovering from shock.

"I want you two to accept that... what is going on between us. We are friends, I want to help him. I don't know, perhaps we will become something more in the future. He needs me and I need him, that is what matters."

"As long as you're not hurt," Rabastan glared at him and Eridanus smiled sheepishly, nodding in agreement.

"Well, I just hope we won't be severely punished for interjecting and kidnapping you yesterday," Rodolphus laughed. Eridanus just shook his head at his uncle, smiling.

**xxx**

The next day Eridanus spent mostly outside, dueling with his father, who was very curious to find out about his son's skills. Rodolphus joined them at some point, bringing Bella for a walk. The two of them stood not very far, watching, intrigued. Eridanus had a lot of practice with the dummies and with Anguis, whose hard scales reflected most of the curses. He easily moved and dodged the spells. Rabastan was getting more and more excited, reveling in the feeling of pride for his son. They've exchanged the last few curses, both masterfully avoiding them, and stood close, panting and grinning like mad at each other. Rodolphus clapped, looking pleased.

"Eridanus, I must admit, I am impressed. When you are fourteen you must participate in the Britain's Dueling Competition. Our house had been holding the first place for almost 12 years in the past. You will bring the glory back to our name," Eridanus' eyes lit up at that.

"Yes, but you should also use transfiguration in the duel. It is difficult and demands a lot of concentration and takes time, but it's worth it all. If you are apt at transfigurating whilst dueling then nobody would be able to win against you."

"Only ickle Eridanus is a bloody Harry Potter and he wouldn't bring your house any glory," Bella sneered, although Eridanus saw she was impressed with his skills. He shrugged at her.

"So what? We know who he is - that is all that matters. Besides, soon his identity would be revealed to the world, so I don't see any problem with that," Rodolphus replied, not taking Bella's bait.

"And don't use your parsel-abilities - it is not fair, since the gift is so limited. Our Lord always wins against me, cheating with parseltongue," Rabastan chided, not paying Bella's comment any heed.

"Playing fair is not always satisfying enough," a voice behind them drawled and they all turned and instantly fell on their knees.

"My Lord," they greeted in unison. Voldemort smirked at the sight and came closer, the hem of his long grey robes dragging behind him through the snow.

"Rise. Eridanus, that was a very impressive performance. You took after your father which is most pleasing. Having three dueling champions in my circle would be most fortunate and beneficial, don't you think," he tilted his head and looked at the boy mockingly, although his eyes were smiling.

"Of course, my lord," Eridanus bowed his head respectfully. He felt Voldemort firmly grab his jaw and push his head up.

"Duel with me, child," he said, his tone amused. The Lestrange brothers backed away, their eyes burning in excitement and anticipation. Bella gasped and moved to say something to her master but he only glared at her and she backed away as well.

Voldemort and Eridanus took their stances and raised their wands. Eridanus pushed his heavy braid behind his back and narrowed his eyes at his opponent. Voldemort smiled viciously. At first they went easy, exchanging basic dark curses. However, the Dark Lord got bored fast so he moved to wordless casting. To his surprise and joy Eridanus easily did the same. It was harder to escape the hit now, for they both had to read their bodies' language carefully to guess the spells. Eridanus got a few nasty cuts on his shoulder, arms and chest, but he paid them no mind, easily ignoring the pain. He recognized a blinding curse and barely moved out of its range. While doing so, out of the corner of his eye he saw Voldemort transfiguring the moisture of the cold air into a heavy block of ice. Eridanus threw an incendio, but it didn't help.

The ice hit him and his body froze unable to move, its lower half captured inside the block, his wand also trapped. Voldemort smirked smugly and raised his wand to throw the curse to put Eridanus down to the ground. Eridanus, being used to cast wandlessly, pushed his darkness to the limit, commanding it to brake the block, and found himself enveloped in the black flames, that burned his skin worse then the ordinary fire. Everybody stared at him, even the Dark Lord. Eridanus felt the ice disappear into the thin air and he raised his wand and threw a parsel-spell at Voldemort, the one that affected the mind, disorienting and confusing the victim. The Dark Lord was fast to sidestep it but wasn't fast enough to dodge the simple expelliarmus that instantly followed, and his wand flew out of his hand and into Eridanus' open palm. The Lestranges applauded, trying very hard to hide the smug grins on their faces, but failing. Bella was torn between astonishment, at seeing a boy disarming her lord, and anticipation of the punishment that was surely to befall on the brat that dared to disarm the Dark Lord. But Voldemort only threw his head back and laughed.

"You've distracted me well with those black flames," he smiled at Eridanus and came closer to inspect the wounds on his chest, "It was a fair fight and I admit I'm impressed you finished me with a simple disarming spell."

"Very much like Severus usually does," Rodolphus chirped in, still grinning smugly, not trying to hide it anymore.

"True, Severussss often uses it, and quite successfully," Voldemort drawled, smirking.

His both hands lay on Eridanus' chest, long cold fingers tracing the edges of deep cuts, drawing more blood. Bella watched them with wide eyes - her lord never touched anybody, even her, especially after the battle or duel. And here he was, with his fingers digging into the boy's flesh, covered in the boy's blood. Eridanus simply smiled at his master, whose cold skin eased the burning in his wounds a little.

"We should go and heal those, before they left scars," Rabastan smiled at his son, ignoring the glare from his lord. Reluctantly, Voldemort put his hands away and nodded at the brothers to take the boy into the hospital wing. When the three Lestranges disappeared behind the doors, he turned to walk to the farthest wing of the fortress, moving slowly and absentmindedly. Bella, who was still overwhelmed with what she saw, followed him hastily, opening her mouth to speak but closed it again. Her lord, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, was licking and sucking the blood from his fingers, with his eyes closed, savoring it in his mouth.

"My lord!" she finally gaped at him. He frowned, slowly opened his eyes and turned his face to look at her, still walking. His lips and chin were smeared with blood, and his eyes were glazed although the cold glare didn't escape Bella's attention.

"What?" he spat. She was almost crawling at his side, trying to keep up with his long strides and cowering in submission at the same time.

"My lord, the boy, he disarmed you! Surely, you wouldn't let him get away with such arrogance!"

"And you are not being arrogant, having the audacity to tell me what I should and shouldn't do, aren't you, Bella?" he hissed coldly, making her shiver even though she was wearing a very warm cloak spelled against freezing. She bowed her head and tried to lean closer to her master.

"My lord, what is this boy to you, why do you favor him so?" she sounded jealous. It amused Voldemort to no end, for he never did anything to let Bella believe he was interested in her, always ignoring her antics.

"Are you questioning your lord and his actions?" he glared at her again and snatched his robes out of her hands. She shook her head vehemently and obediently let go of him, with a pout on her face. He sighed and closed his eyes, "Get out of my sight, Bella."

She bowed and reluctantly moved away. He shook his head in exasperation and licked his fingers again only to find that the blood became dry on his skin. He clicked his tongue in displeasure and apparated away.

**xxx**

Eridanus sat on the hospital bed, his torso naked, and tried not to laugh at his father's serious face. Rabastan was cleaning his wounds with a severe determination contorting his features. Noticing his son's amused smile he narrowed his eyes and growled, "What? I haven't been able to do that for twelve years," he tried to sound harsh but Eridanus broke into low chuckles and smiled at him warmly.

"You are such a mother hen," Rodolphus snorted, also chuckling at his brother. He passed him the salve not at all affected with the glare he received.

"Well, I'm taking care of my son, what is wrong with that?" he hissed in reply. However, he realized that it was the first time he ever touched Eridanus, the late night caress didn't count. He saw that the same thoughts ran through his son's head and he gently rubbed his wounds, moving slowly, enjoying the contact. Eridanus smiled again, reveling in the touch. It wasn't intoxicating as Voldemort's but it was so warm and so pleasant, so familiar. It was the touch of a parent, something that Eridanus didn't know he craved for. He tried to distract himself from the sad thought and looked around instead. Most beds were occupied by the escaped death eaters, who were sleeping soundly. Their faces were still pale and unhealthy looking.

"They are slowly recovering," Rodolphus said, following his nephew's gaze, "Most of them had already come to their senses, they are simply exhausted and warn out."

"How did you two survive? You looked much better then they do now when we met and that was not very long after you were freed?"

"One of our family traits you impressed our lord with," Rodolphus smirked. Eridanus raised an eyebrow, not getting it.

"Occlumency," Rabastan explained, "Your mental shields were already impenetrable at the age of twelve, which is common in our family. Our blood is famous for its mind magic. The most difficult part of being in Azkaban is the constant exposure to the dementors. However, very strong mental shields help to push them away most of the time, so we were scarcely affected."

"Does the mind magic affect the sanity?" Eridanus asked curiously.

"Yes, you can never go insane, unless somebody destroys your shields completely and ruins your minds, which is a very dark and very difficult type of magic, which even our lord wouldn't use. Affecting your mind and controlling it through compulsion spells and potions is also difficult. You would always know if your actions are forced and thoughts implanted."

"Sounds great. What else is there about the mind magic?" Eridanus was now thinking about the way his blood affected Voldemort.

"Well, I was told that you are talented in healing," Rabastan looked at his son's pensive face, applying the last portion of salve onto his wounds, "So your mind magic might be able to heal other's minds. I can't be sure, since I never tried and never researched that, but I think it is possible."

"It is probably your mother's heritage. She was a healer, wasn't she?" Rodolphus added, looking questionably at Rabastan. At his brother's affirmative nod, he turned to Eridanus, with a thoughtful expression on his face, - Do you think your blood helped our lord gain his sanity back? And your presence and affection towards him makes him feel again?

"Perhaps," Eridanus nodded. He now knew how to help his master. The more time they spent together, the better the results would be. Voldemort had already practically healed, having reformed all his plans and goals. Now only his emotions were left to be mended and placed where they belong.

Rabastan watched his son intently. The blood did probably heal their lord, but everything else... He didn't really know how the mind magic worked, since it hadn't been thoroughly studied, but maybe there was more to it than he first thought? Perhaps love and affection towards another human being were also a part of it. Or it wasn't magic at all and simply to love and to accept the Dark Lord was enough to heal him? It all was so confusing since Rabastan himself never really knew love.

Eridanus stood up and dressed and followed his father and uncle out and in the direction of the dinning room. Rodolphus waved at them to go on, walking away to find Bella. Eridanus and Rabastan entered the room, but their lord hadn't come yet and no food had been served.

Eridanus moved to stand at the window to watch the snowfall outside. His father stood beside him, watching him closely. The boy was everything a father could wish for. A Lestrange could wish for. And so much more. Rabastan could never imagine that it was possible to be cruel and cold, and kind and affectionate at the same time, but this was exactly how his son turned out. Growing up being constantly abused should have made him an emotionless killing machine, or a psychotic unstoppable murderer. Yet, Eridanus was completely sane and knew perfectly well what he did and the consequences of his actions. Having lived his life without a family to support him, he immediately opened up to his father who suddenly popped up out of nowhere, not even once questioning himself if he even needed a father, but craving for acceptance and care. Yes, Eridanus was the most unusual person he had ever met, so much like Lily.

Rabastan sighed and reached out to stroke the soft copper hair. Eridanus involuntarily leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. The boy was so affectionate, so hungry for caress. Rabastan smiled at the warmth radiating from his son. No wonder their lord couldn't stop touching him. He moved closer and placed a kiss on the top of the boy's head. It was something he never thought he would do, but it felt so natural, familiar. He heard a small sigh escape Eridanus' lips. Rabastan put his hands on his son's shoulders and looked at him. The boy's eyes were searching his face for something but then they closed and, tentatively, the long thin arms found their way around his middle and Rabastan found himself in a tight embrace. It was so unusual and yet so warm and welcoming. He put his arms around his son's shoulders and buried his nose in the copper hair, and they both pressed into each other, relaxing. This was what fathers did, thought Rabastan, gently rubbing the boy's back in circles. Eridanus only sighed into his chest but he felt that the boy was smiling. Rabastan kissed his head again and hummed contently. He lost so many years of this, but they still had time, a lot of time to catch up.

**xxx**

A few days were spent in a slow silent routine, during which Voldemort was away on some business as he said, and the Lestranges were left to roam the fortress on their own and duel outside and in the hall. Eridanus decided to use this time to complete his homework and occupied the library. Rabastan and Cypreus kept him company, Rodolphus joined them from to time but was otherwise away, entertaining Bella. Eridanus was surprised to find out that the level of his education was lower then of his father's. Rabastan explained that during the last thirty years or so the quality of education was drastically worsened, the curriculum cramped, many of the subjects canceled. It was just Eridanus' natural hunger for knowledge that kept him up to the high standards of the Lestrange family. Rabastan was devastated at the notion of how low Hogwarts had fallen. Cypreus, for his part, noted that only idiots needed to go to the school, and since his master liked Eridanus so much, the boy could stay here and be tutored by his lord. Eridanus only shook his head at that and Rabastan laughed out loud, when the boy translated it to him. Their lord was too impatient to even listen to a report, let alone teach somebody. And his tutoring of Eridanus would probably turn into torturing and snogging.

It had been a week since Eridanus came to the fortress and he decided it was time to send a letter to Sirius to tell him how well he had been spending his time. Copper, who had been living in Voldemort's quarters all this time, gladly took the letter from Eridanus, hooting happily at him, and took off. He watched her disappear in the white mist that settled over the forest. When he turned to go back inside he saw his father and uncle coming out, pulling their cloaks around themselves tightly. It was colder these past few days and the snow just wouldn't stop. All in all the weather was just great and Eridanus narrowed his eyes at the men playfully. The next second Rodolphus got a handful of snow in his face. Stunned, he glared at his nephew, however, the feral grin, that appeared on his face, indicated that he wasn't mad. On the contrary. In a moment a snow fight began. Both Rabastan and Rodolphus used their wands to make snowballs and shield themselves from Eridanus' attacks. The three of them ran around, grinning madly and laughing at each other. Their copper hair were wet and tangled and their faces flushed with the heat of the fight.

That was how Voldemort found them, following the sound of profanities that could be heard in his study. He raised his eyebrows at the sight, clearly surprised. Rabastan pushed Eridanus down into the snow and straddled him, tickling his sides, making the boy howl in laughter. Rodolphus stood close, panting, chuckling at them. They didn't notice their master at first and Voldemort used this opportunity to look at them all closely. He himself never took part in such activities at school and never thought that the Lestranges were able to enjoy something as mundane as a snow fight. But judging by their red satisfied faces it was clear they all enjoyed it, very much so. Voldemort could only stare at them in bewilderment.

"I see you are enjoying yourselves," he drawled, putting on a mask of contempt. They all kneeled, though Eridanus was mostly still lying, and greeted him, "I am glad you still can, for the peaceful times are coming to an end."

He turned to walk back inside, the three copper haired men followed him, trying to brush the snow off of their cloaks. When they entered the drawing room, Voldemort gestured for the brothers to leave him and Eridanus alone. He stepped closer to the boy, when they left with the knowing sly smiles on their faces. Voldemort cupped Eridanus' hot flushed face with his cool hand, enjoying the warmth.

"You are leaving in a few days and there is still something we need to do," he said, rubbing his thumb on the soft skin. Eridanus looked him straight into the eyes.

"Yes, my lord. Whatever you need," Voldemort smiled at that and pushed the index finger of his other hand against the scar on the boy's forehead.

"Come," with that he apparated them straight into his study.

Once there, Eridanus took off his cloak and dropped it on the back of the armchair. Voldemort sat down on the small sofa in front of the fireplace and stretched his long legs in front of him, patting the place next to him for the boy to seat on. Eridanus smiled and sat down, his thigh pressed against Voldemort's. The Dark Lord watched him hungrily with half-lidded eyes, taking in every detail. Eridanus blushed and lowered his eyes under the scrutiny. He felt the cool hand grabbing his chin and turning his face towards his master. He looked up to meet the brightly shinning blood red eyes that now were very close to his face.

He felt cold lips brushing against his. Closing his eyes Eridanus opened his mouth and let Voldemort's hot tongue in. He moaned as he was pressed closer to his master's body and he threw his arms around the man's neck trying to deepen their kiss. He soon found himself straddling the Dark Lord, tightly embraced by the strong arms. They kissed passionately, urgently, not stopping to breathe. When finally his head began to spin, Eridanus pulled his head away, his swollen lips aching and tingling pleasantly. Voldemort was panting quietly, watching him hungrily, lustfully. Eridanus didn't miss the hard arousal of his master against his own and rubbed them together unconsciously, earning a low groan from the man.

"You are killing me, little one," he hissed.

But Eridanus only smirked at him and pressing harder on his groin, kissed Voldemort again. The Dark Lord bit his tongue and sucked on it, drawing blood. Eridanus could only moan and shiver in ecstasy. His hands were tagging on the man's hair, while Voldemort grabbed his hips, squeezing them painfully, scratching through the fabric of the trousers. Shifting, Eridanus rubbed their arousals together again, and pulled his face away, sucking on Voldemort's lower lip. There was blood around his swollen mouth and Eridanus licked it off, making Voldemort moan loudly and move his firm grip onto the boy's buttocks.

Moving their hips they pressed hard against each other and Eridanus rubbed their arousals again and again, moaning and panting, fisting the dark locks in his hands. Voldemort growled and attacked his neck, sucking hard to mark it. Eridanus gasped and his body jerked as the wave of pleasure rushed through him.

"Oh, Tom," he moaned and pressing down hard on the man, he came, screaming the name hoarsely again. Voldemort bit into the skin of his neck and followed, groaning loudly, digging his fingernails deep into the boy's flesh, through already torn fabric of the trousers. Panting, he slumped back, Eridanus leaning into him, pressing his head against his shoulder. Voldemort slowly let go of the boy's bottom and moved his hands to caress his sides, snaking his long fingers under the shirt to feel the burning skin. He heard a gasp escape the boy's lips and his hair was tagged again. He tilted his head and kissed the lightning bolt scar, licking it with the tip of his tongue. Eridanus moaned in pleasure.

"If this is what we need to do every day until I am to leave, Tom, then I'm not going anywhere from this study and this position," he whispered shuddering at the sensation.

"Why do you keep calling me Tom?" Voldemort murmured against his forehead.

"Because this is your name, it doesn't matter what you call yourself. For me you are Tom, my master and my lord," the boy mumbled, pressing his head against Tom's lips asking to be kissed again.

"There is no difference to you?" he sounded curious.

"No. You are Tom and you are Voldemort and you are many more than that. I like you the way you are, I don't divide between the sides of your personality," Eridanus' hot breath tickled his neck.

"You are impossible," Voldemort whispered, burying his nose into the copper hair. The words that Eridanus said made his chest burn inside, pleasantly. He hated his real name, his ordinary muggle name. But hearing Eridanus say it, scream it, made him think that, perhaps, he would let the boy call him Tom, but only in private, preferably in bed. They sat in comfortable silence for some time, reveling in each other's warmth and caresses.

"What I meant was that I have something to tell you," Voldemort murmured, and Eridanus had to shake himself up from the slumber he fell in, lulled by the gentle touches of his master.

"What is it," he rasped out, nuzzling into Voldemort's neck.

"Our connection is more then you think. Some time ago I discovered that we have a mental link between us. You haven't probably noticed it yet, due to your tender age, but if you would practice you would be able to control it. I, for example, can experience your strongest emotions, like rage or sexual pleasure. Just now I felt both my and yours coming, feeling your release almost as clearly as mine in my mind," Eridanus looked up at him at that, surprised, "And I believe, that lowering our mental shields and reaching out for each other, we would be able to develop this link into a deeper connection, that would work even in a long distance. I think it would be possible to converse and share memories."

"This sounds brilliant," Eridanus was excited at the prospect of being able to talk to his master while being away from him, "How do we develop it?"

"First, we must lower our shields and enter each other's minds to learn what it feels like, then, I believe, you would find some kind of a door in your mindscape that would help you to connect with mine. At least this is what's it like to me."

"You've already entered my mind?" the boy looked at him incredulously.

"Yes, the connection is not strong enough, but I can probe your emotions. Don't give me that look if you don't want to find yourself bleeding on the floor, your shields were lowered at that moment. You relax around me," Voldemort couldn't help but look smug at that, - Feel secure enough to leave your mind unprotected.

"But if I would want to talk to you, being at Hogwarts, how would I lower my shields when there are others around? My mind would be easy to intrude."

"No, if we would develop the connection to the point when one of us can enter the other's mindscape, the shields would still be up, protecting you from others."

Eridanus frowned at that, thinking. He was still reluctant to let anybody, even Tom, to walk his mindscape. He had no secrets from the man, but the place was sacred to him, it was his sanctuary he didn't want to share. As if reading his thoughts, Voldemort smiled.

"I know how to be discreet and so, I believe, do you," he murmured and kissed the scar again. Eridanus sighed, defeated.

"Fine. Tell me what to do."

**xxx**

The last few days at the fortress Eridanus spent meditating and practicing in reaching for the link between him and Tom. They've practiced, staying away from each other to get used to have distance between them. So far, Eridanus found their link and could brush on Voldemort's mind and register some of his emotions. He found the "door" in his mindscape which was the small lake hidden deep in the wood. All he had to do is walk into the black water and it would consume him and drag him down to the bottom. However, he couldn't enter the other's mindscape just yet. But Voldemort couldn't enter his as well, so they kept trying, slowly but steadily.

Eridanus also spent the time with his father and uncle, they shared stories of their past, of their family that was now gone; they dueled and Rabastan taught him to use transfiguration simultaneously with the offensive spells. He had one more unpleasant encounter with Bellatrix. She tried to bait him with the comments about his mudblood of a mother again, but Rodolphus simply crucioed her and she shut up, physically still weak to withstand such pain. On his last day there he asked Voldemort to walk with him in the forest before the dusk, when he would have to portkey back to Grimmauld's. The Dark Lord silently agreed and they walked for some time, side by side, not talking. When they stopped, abruptly, and Eridanus wanted to ask why did they, he was put under the cruciatus. After almost three minutes of intolerable pain, bleeding and screaming, Voldemort canceled the curse and held him in his arms again, soothing him with kisses and caresses. Eridanus couldn't complain, he also felt sad that he had to go and if this was the only way Voldemort could show him how he felt, he would accept that. Their walk ended in a passionate embrace and a ravishing kiss, after which the Dark Lord apparated them into the hall and without a word left Eridanus there, vanishing into his personal quarters.

Hugging his father with trembling still aching hands, Eridanus promised him to write often and was kissed and caressed as well. Surprisingly, Rodolphus also gave him a warm hug. The brothers passed him his trunk and with the last goodbyes he portkeyed away and to the Grimmauld's.

**xxx**

He was met by Walburga's portrait, who noted to him that if he didn't want Sirius to go and castrate everybody at the fortress, he'd better glamour his swollen lips and his multiple hickeys. He stared at her with wide eyes in shock and she laughed at him. During the summer she warmed up to the boy, finding him a worthy godson for the Black family and made it her duty to watch over him. Eridanus blushed fiercely and hastily applied glamours on himself, just in time to hear Sirius running down the stairs. He was enveloped in a bear bone-crushing hug. He was let go of when he tactfully hinted he couldn't breath. After taking a step back Sirius thoroughly examined his appearance with a trained eye.

"There is something about you... I can't quite place my finger on it," he tapped his chin, narrowing his eyes at innocently looking Eridanus.

"Leave him in peace, Sirius," Walburga piped in, "He came home and the first thing you do is scrutinizing him like he is some kind of a criminal. Dinner! Feed the boy, look at how thin he is, Morgana help me!" she started screeching to make Sirius hastily retreat. Eridanus bowed to her gratefully, following Sirius into the kitchen.

A moment later Remus joined them and they sat down. Eating and chatting about their holidays took a long time. Eridanus took a good look at his godfather: the man tanned a little, looked healthier now. He also filled out, not looking so thin anymore. His eyes shone brightly and Eridanus couldn't help but smile at him. Sirius had a very good rest indeed and he decided to ask Remus to take his godfather to the sea again, during the summer. They both deserved it. The werewolf also looked much better, less exhausted. And he was smiling more often than usual.

Both men were surprised to hear that Eridanus's holidays went really well, for being locked down in the fortress in the middle of the impenetrable wood and snow was, in their opinion, the opposite of a good holiday. But Eridanus only laughed at them. He couldn't, of course, tell them that he had been snogged by the Dark Lord most of the time, but he happily told them about the Lestrange brothers, how well they were getting on, how fun his family was to be around. He also told them about the Yule celebration, not mentioning the hunting, of course. Sirius, who knew perfectly well what was the main entertainment for the Yule ceremony, discreetly kept his mouth shut, though the knowing look in his eyes told Eridanus he was in for a serious conversion. He inwardly sighed.

It was almost midnight when Remus suddenly remembered the time and hastily ushered them all to beds - they had to wake up early the next morning to go to Hogwarts. While both men were stamping up the stairs, arguing about something that Eridanus didn't even want to know, he heard Walburga call for him. Seeing that his guardians were already gone into the rooms upstairs, he went back and stopped in front of her portrait, looking at her expectantly.

"Well, little lord Lestrange, who is the lucky girl or boy?" Walburga buttered her eyelashes at him, fidgeting impatiently to hear the answer. Eridanus shook his head and laughed at her mirthfully. If only she knew.

"I am afraid I can't tell you my lady," he smiled charmingly at her. She huffed at him.

"Come on, young man, you can tell me! Well, at least tell me the first name, I'm dying without any news here," she almost begged him, trying to look stern.

"His name is Tom," he grinned at her.

"So it is a he!" she crooned and her lips stretched in a huge predatory smile, "And his name is Tom! How interesting! He must be older than you are, isn't he?"

"How can you tell?" he was surprised.

"I am a woman, and I've seen much in my lifetime, my little one, I can always tell such things. He must be very passionate and possessive, making your neck look like one huge bruise," she smiled at him knowingly. Eridanus lowered his eyes shyly and blushed, "Oh, I see. I was right," she cackled, very pleased with herself.

"Well, yes," his face was so hot he didn't know what to say. Merlin, was it just Walburga or would everybody make him feel so embarrassed when they found out that he was... well... not single?

"Is he beautiful?" she asked, hungry for more information.

"Salazar, yes!" Eridanus couldn't stop himself from crying it out loud. She bit her lower lip, smiling slyly at him. But then her face darkened a little.

"So he is very beautiful," she concluded, looking suddenly pensive. Eridanus ducked his head, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"Child, are you out of your mind?! " she suddenly screamed and covered her mouth with her hands harshly, afraid to gain Sirius' attention. Eridanus stared at her, befuddled.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"What do I mean?!" she hissed at him, giving him a glare, "I know only one very beautiful older man named Tom who could stay at the Dark Lord's fortress with the Lestranges and THE Harry Potter! It's the Dark Lord himself!" Eridanus gulped and looked at her in shock. Then it hit him. What an idiot he was! Walburga was, what, one year behind Tom at Hogwarts? She used to be his follower, of course she would know him. Eridanus wanted to bang his head on the wall.

"Are you insane? He, he would eat you alive! " she hissed in frustration and anger.

"We're friends, Walburga! Why is everybody so crazy about me being with him, Salazar, like he would hurt me!"

"Friends?" she sputtered, "Tom had never had friends in his life. And he would certainly hurt you, he hurt everybody who craved for his affection. Child, you don't underst-"

"No, I understand perfectly well," Eridanus cut her off sharply, "He had changed, and he wouldn't hurt me. He needs me."

His furious and suddenly cold eyes made her shiver and she didn't say anything for a while, watching him warily. The boy was dead certain. He didn't really look hurt or bewitched. Had Tom truly changed? But how?

"Had he taken you?" she finally asked.

"No, it will be my decision to make," he glared at her. She cowed a little and nodded. Sometimes Eridanus looked at her just like Tom did, with cold, unforgiving, cruel eyes. They were so much alike, in fact. It confused her.

"Alright, alright," she tried to placate him, "But please believe me when I say that Tom is a very cruel man and he enjoys breaking people, in body and spirit and heart."

"I know that," he gave her a cold smile, "This is, exactly, why he needs me. He can't break me."

With that he turned on his heels and left. She could only stare at the empty space in front of her, completely gobsmacked. First he comes home bearing the dark mark, now he comes home almost ravished, all kissed and bruised, and he is only thirteen! She shook her head, rubbing her throat uncomfortably. She could only hope Tom really changed and truly liked the boy. Otherwise there would be one more tragedy in the house of Black.

The next day Sirius saw both Eridanus and Remus off on the platform. He hugged his godson tightly and warned him that they would have that talk. Eridanus smirked at him and nodded affirmatively. They've said their goodbyes and got on the train. Remus went to the prefects compartment, and Eridanus walked down the corridor looking for his snakes. He found them and after an awkward silence, when Draco, Blaise and Theo were watching him as if he grew a second head, he surrendered and told them about the hunt and all the people he had killed before that. The boys listened carefully and when he finished, nobody could say anything to that.

However, Draco was the first one to come to his senses. He sat closer to Eridanus and pulled up the sleeve of his left arm. His skin was clean. Eridanus sighed and cancelled the glamour. Upon seeing the mark they all shared a hard and thoughtful look between them. While he casted the glamour back, Draco told him that it changed nothing and he was still his friend. However, he said he wouldn't take the mark before he left school. Eridanus sad he would have never asked any of them to take it or to kill anybody. At that they all nodded. Both Blaise and Theo agreed with Draco. And thus, everything went back to normal between the four of them. Although, from now on Eridanus was to inform them if he killed anybody at the school so that they could cover his tracks. They weren't slytherins for nothing.

**xxx**

Coming back to Hogwarts was always special for Eridanus because he was coming back home. In a few years, he mused, he would have his own house, one of his family's mansions, that he would call his home, however, Hogwarts would always be the first one. The old castle greeted him with a loud chatter of the many students who had already been seated in the Great Hall. He saw Ginny actively waving to him and inwardly cringed. He completely forgot about her. Ron glared at him and hit her on her arm, hissing something. He was slapped back. Eridanus turned away from them and joined the other slytherins at their table. Professor Snape was absent. The potions master was called to the fortress, the itching in his mark told him that much. Dumbledore, dressed in acid green, was merrily chatting with Flitwick and Eridanus thanked the spirits for that. The less attention the headmaster paid him, the better.

After the uneventful dinner they went to their dormitories. Eridanus skillfully escaped Ginny's stalking and was soon in his bed. However happy he was to be back at Hogwarts, he couldn't get rid of the longing, that felt like a huge black hole in his chest. He missed Voldemort. He sighed sadly and reached out for their mental link. He found the same longing there. It made him smile a little. He sent a wave of content and warmth towards his master and went to sleep. His dreams were filled with blood red eyes staring into his soul and cool hands caressing his skin.

January went by in a day, it seemed. It was a week into february when the Hogsmead weekends were permitted again. However, during the winter holidays the ministry decided to place a few dementors and aurors around the area, since there was no sign of escaped convicts and the Goodkind's murderer hadn't been caught. Somehow these two events got connected and the Minister, certain that one of the freed death eaters was behind the cruel death of the student, was adamant that the school and the village needed protection. Eridanus only shook his head at that. Idiots. Because of them going to Hogsmead was the most unpleasant affair, since the dementors were very hungry and the many souls of student body allured them, they constantly tried to get closer and thus made the air even colder than it already was and brought devastation upon the cheerful children. Eridanus was probably the only one who wasn't affected by them, but he didn't want to stand out and had to pretend to suffer as everybody else.

The Valentine's day was on saturday and Eridanus spent the whole friday being pestered by Draco, who was sure that Ginny would ask Eridanus out and he would have to go for the sake of his cover. Eridanus knew the blonde was right but it wasn't fair to torture him so. He dearly wished Voldemort could be there with him. During last month they've steadily developed their connection and now could exchange even basic emotions and feel each other's mood when they wanted. Eridanus couldn't wait to learn to share his thoughts with the man - he would whine all the time to simply irritate the Dark Lord.

Draco was right, of course. Even though Eridanus hid well during friday, avoiding Ginny masterfully for the whole day, on saturday morning he was assaulted right on his way to Hogsmead. The redheaded girl grabbed him by the arm and stirred him away from his unkindly laughing friends.

"Oh, Harry! I couldn't find you yesterday, you practically vanished!" Ginny crooned, squeezing herself into his side, "But I found you now! Will you take me out for the Valentine's day? I promise I won't give you any singing cards today," she laughed at his stricken expression. Taking a deep calming breath, Eridanus only nodded in reply. She beamed at him and went on with her banter.

"Would you take me to Madame Pudifoot's? They say it's the most romantic place in the village for all the pairs to go to!" he inwardly gaged at the words "romantic" and "pairs". He'd seen that place, it was atrocious and looked absolutely awful, with all those pink and blue stripes and flowers and little cupids flying around. There was nothing romantic in that. His thoughts went back to Voldemort and their wet passionate kisses on the sofa, on the bed, on the floor, in the woods, in the hall... now that was romantic. And when Voldemort bit him and sucked his blood it was just... No, he wouldn't go there, he wouldn't think about that NOW, while he was with Weasley at the bloody Pudifoot's.

They entered the cafe and were instantly ushered to a secluded cabin with a plushy pink divan and a small table in front of it. The blasted cupids were flying around them, scattering pink and blue sparkles on Eridanus' dark grey robe. He wanted to incendio them all. The waitress came up to them and smiling sweetly asked what would they like to order. Eridanus waved for Ginny to choose, inwardly praying that she would choke on the food and die. He thought about the poisons in professor Snape's office. The thought was just so tempting.

"So, Harry, how was your holiday?" she leaned closer, buttering her eyelashes at him.

"Great. Sirius, professor Lupin and I spent some really great time together," he said, his eyes darting around looking for the possible means of escape.

"What have you been doing all that time? I'm sure you were bored to death! If only you'd come to the Burrow..."

Eridanus wanted to tell her just how boring his holidays were, but held his tongue, of course. He simply nodded and pretended he was listening to the description of her holidays. He really listened only once at the mentioning of the twins plotting something. He made a mental note to confront them as soon as possible and find out what they've been doing all this time.

"Harry, you know I like you so much," he suddenly heard. And her hand was on his thigh. Salazar, the girl was only twelve! Well, it wasn't really his place to speak, since he himself, being thirteen, snogged the seventy something years old dark lord, but that was beside the point. She was openly hitting on him and he didn't know what to do. All ideas he had, involved a lot of blood and violence. She snuggled closer.

"Er, Ginny, I really don't -"

"Oh, Harry, you are so modest!" she smiled at him, stroking his thigh. A lot of blood and a lot of violence, "Don't be shy," she prompted. At his quirked eyebrow she leaned closer and protruded her lips, "Kiss me."

He felt bile rise in his throat. The sight of her moist plump lips disturbed him. When he looked at Voldemort's lips he wanted to die of lust and desire to ravish them. But her lips, that should have, logically, attracted him, only disgusted him. How could he ever look at anybody else, let alone kiss, after his master? He wrinkled his nose and wanted to tell her off when a scream from the street saved him. All the visitors of the cafe stood up and ran to the windows. A few of the dementors broke free and now were roaming the streets of the village, attacking random students. Eridanus thought quickly.

"Ginny, take all the students to the school, I'll go find professor Lupin, he is on the watch today," with that he ran out and straight to the dementors. He knew only 'expecto patronum' could scare them off, but if there would be no witnesses he could use a few nice dark spells that he knew. He caught the sight of Lupin, who casted patronus just in time to save a girl from being sucked dry. The chaos on the streets broke out, when more screaming could be heard. Lupin's patronus (that was a wolf of course) pushed the dementors away, but more were coming from afar, Eridanus could see them. The aurors helplessly tried to chain them back with the spells. But there were just too many children - the dementors lost control. Who lets students out with these soulsuckers walking around? Eridanus was not amused. He felt Lupin's back against his own.

"You can't use dark magic against them, there are too many aurors," he heard the man shout. The two of them were trying to stir the students away, covering them with shields while they ran past and in the direction of the school.

"What do I need to do to cast patronus?" Eridanus shouted back.

"You can't master the spell on one try, Eri, it is impossible!" Remus said. He and Sirius made up a nickname for him that could be easily mistook as Harry, so that there would be no confusion how to address him. Eridanus shook his head.

"Just tell me, I want to try!"

"You must concentrate on the strongest positive emotions to call for patronus. Usually, the happiest memory helps," Remus said loudly, directing his patronus at the other pair of dementors who were coming closer.

Eridanus concentrated. Strong emotions were his speciality. Calling for his darkness he settled on the emotions he experienced during the Yule ceremony, when he felt the excitement of the spirit's presence and the power of the unity of all people who prayed with him. Grasping at these feelings he raised his wand and, feeling the shivering along his spine and itching under his skin he shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

The black thick mist flew out of the tip of his wand and rapidly grew to form a huge black figure of a thestral. The winged-horse, slightly opaque on the edges, strode to the dementors and spread its great leather wings at them. Lupin and Eridanus watched, mesmerized, as the horse clashed into the retreating figures of the scared dementors and with a loud growls kicked them with its front legs. The creatures screamed and hastily drew back right into the blocking shields of the aurors. Eridanus directed the thestral towards the other dementors and soon, all of them were captured and bound. The winged-horse patronus strode back to Eridanus and leaned into his outstretched hands. It felt almost corporeal to the touch. Eridanus smiled at it, patting it lovingly. Remus was gaping at the horse, clearly flabbergasted by the notion that patronus could be dark, since he had only seen them being white and thus light. Sighing Eridanus let go of his thestral and it vanished into the thin air.

"So much for not mastering it on the first try," the werewolf muttered. He quickly grabbed Eridanus and led him away from the aurors before they could ask questions. When they entered the school, they were met by Severus, who took Eridanus to the slytherin common room, leading him through a secret passage. He tried to make it look like Eridanus had been with his peers all this time. When they finally were there, Severus dragged him to the side, away from the prying ears.

"Eridanus, that was most reckless of you to use your dark patronus," he sounded exasperated and worried.

"I'm sorry, there just were too many of them," the boy said, looking down.

"The headmaster would definitely hear about this from the aurors and it wouldn't take him long to realize that you are the only student capable of such a fit. And when he does, you would be in a great trouble. I can't cover this up, he would simply make me cast my patronus and will see that it is not a bloody thestral," he shook his head tiredly. As soon as the headmaster connected the patronus to Eridanus, he would examine the boy's wand and would find out its core and wood and would no doubt realize that the boy was dark. And then they would all be doomed.

"Well, shit," was all Eridanus could say to that.

"Precisely," Severus snorted.

"But I could create an illusion of another patronus," Eridanus mused thoughtfully. Severus raised his eyebrows at that.

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Transfiguration. My father gave me a few lessons at the fortress during our duels. I could summon the patronus while transfiguring its colour, for example. And, perhaps, its wings, make them feathery," he tapped his lips with his index finger, thinking of a spell he could use. Parsel-magic was very useful, he could cast it wordlessly.

"Are you bloody serious? It is impossible!" Severus stared at him in disbelief.

"We could try it out now," Eridanus shrugged at the man. Severus looked at him, clearly considering his offer. He then jerked his head, prompting the boy to follow, and led him out and to the nearest unused classroom.

He warded the door and turned to look at Eridanus, who had already moved to the farthest corner and was concentrating on the spell. He casted 'expecto patronum' and added wordlessly 'mutat colorem' in parseltongue. The mist on the tip of his wand turned from black to pearl and the form of the thestral, now standing next to him, was also very light in colour, closer to ivory. Eridanus nodded in satisfaction.

"How did you do that?" Severus asked, gobsmacked.

"Parsel-magic makes transfiguration an easy-peasy play," he shrugged, "Now, I'll try to make it look like, say, a pegasus."

Ignoring the wide eyes of his potions professor, Eridanus canceled his patronus and casted it all over again, adding 'tanquam pegasus' in parseltongue. And true to his expectations the ivory form of his thestral now looked like pegasus, if slightly underfed. Eridanus smiled smugly at it and canceled the patronus. Severus, stunned, couldn't move. The boy snickered at him and led him out, holding him by the arm. They came back into the common room just in time. As soon as Eridanus sat down next to his friends and Severus managed to school his features into the usual dark scowl, the headmaster arrived along with the two aurors. They checked out the students, counting how many were absent, being transported to the hospital wing. Dumbledore was eyeing Eridanus suspiciously, but the boy was watching the proceedings impassively.

"Had anybody of you, lads, seen who casted the black horse patronus?" one of the aurors addressed the snakes. The children looked at him in bewilderment and exchanged surprised looks. None of the slytherins were there when it happened, they all left as soon as the first screams were heard. Eridanus played along.

"Harry? Had you seen anything?" Dumbledore asked him, boring his twinkling eyes into the boy's.

"No, headmaster. I was with Ginny. I told her to take everybody out of the cafe and after I found a professor I came back to Hogwarts. I saw dementors and felt so scared and cold I wanted to run away as soon as possible," Eridanus said quietly as if still frightened. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes but said nothing. They soon left, taking Severus with them. Well, that went well, Eridanus mused.

The next day at the breakfast an announcement was made that Hogsmead weekends were once again canceled. Eridanus could breathe freely now. It was easier to hide from Ginny here, at the school. Copper landed on his shoulder with a note in her claws. Eridanus couldn't hide his smile. He knew exactly who sent it.

_Eridanus,_

_What happened yesterday? I felt this overwhelming emotion, that was suspiciously similar to the one I've experienced at the Yule ceremony. Care to explain?_

_Your Lord_

Eridanus smiled at the first line. He finally stopped calling him brat. After all those kisses, figures. He laughed softly and took out a piece of parchment and a quill to write a reply. He gave it to Copper, smiling cunningly. The owl hooted at him disapprovingly, as if knowing what he wrote, and took off. He only smirked at her and continued with his breakfast.

**xxx**

Voldemort was restless. It's been a month and a half since Eridanus left and he felt hollow, incomplete. He tortured his followers, he tortured a few muggles that were brought to him although he never asked. Nothing helped. His only distraction was Cypreus, whom he grew to like very much indeed. The snake had a terrible personality and could rival with him in cruelty and menace. Cypreus would lie lazily on his shoulders and hiss profanities in his ear, swearing at his incompetent servants, commenting on their idiocy. Voldemort enjoyed his snarky companion and often thought how astonishingly insightful and understanding Eridanus was. And that led to the thoughts about the boy, again. It was a vicious circle.

The only time he felt content was at night, when they would both practice at their connection. Now he could feel all of the boy's emotions when he wanted to, without lowering his mental shields. Soon, he mused, soon they would be able to share thoughts. He felt stupid at the notion that he was so eager to converse with Eridanus, but as hard as he might, he couldn't deny the fact that the boy was highly intelligent and could hold an interesting conversation if he wanted to. Though Voldemort enjoyed exchanging snide remarks as well. No, he had to admit, he missed the boy, dearly. He had already thought about taking the boy in for the summer - convincing his godfather wouldn't be a problem, not for the Dark Lord.

He heard Copper hooting and he turned to see her flying into his bedroom. Cypreus glared at the owl but kept silent. After his master forbade him to eat it her or even hiss at her, he kept his mouth shut, reluctantly, though. The bloody chicken belonged to Eridanus, so it was untouchable. Voldemort took the note from Copper, stroking her affectionately and smiling at her lightly. She nibbled him on his fingers urging him to read the letter. He smirked at her and opened the letter; Cypreus moved to read over his shoulder.

_My Lord,_

_As you know dementors were placed around the Hogwarts' and Hogsmead's area to guard the students. From me, apparently. Anyway, I was assaulted and forced into going on a date with a girl who grabbed my thighs and tried to kiss me. Her lips looked so moist and so plump. Ah, but back to the main topic. We were interrupted by the screams. The ever competent law enforcement let the dementors loose and they attacked the students at the village. I had to help to scare them off. Since I couldn't use the dark magic in front of the aurors, I asked the werewolf how to cast patronus. So the emotions you've experienced were the ones I chose to concentrate on in creating it. I succeeded and the dementors were thrown off and captured later. It is said to use the happiest memories and the strongest emotions to cast patronus but I couldn't possibly use the ones that we shared, you know, all the mushy stuff. Anyway, don't worry, no harm done and nobody suspects anything._

_Eridanus_

_P.S.: send Cypreus my regards._

Voldemort glared at the note and it turned into ash in his hands. A girl, that insufferable brat went out with some fucking girl and she tried to kiss him. The Dark Lord was furious, no, he felt murderous. Cypreus wisely retreated under the bed expecting the Hell to break loose. Voldemort roared in anger and the air turned cold in the room, the fire died out, and darkness crept out of the shadows enveloping the room into a heavy gloom. He was so jealous, so angry, he was an inch away from apparating to Hogwarts and strangling the boy with his bare hands. Fuming, he slowly came back to his senses. No, that little snake wrote this particular information on purpose, he wanted him to be jealous, to suffer. Voldemort clenched his jaw. Eridanus was just asking for it.

**xxx**

Eridanus was lying in his bed when he felt it. Yes, he could just pinpoint the moment when Voldemort read his letter. The fury, the rage, the jealousy that he felt through their link made him giddy. The emotions were overwhelming, his head was pounding but he paid it no heed. He got what he wanted. Reaching out he soothed his master and unconsciously whispered calming words, saying that it was alright, that nobody would ever touch him, that he belonged only to Voldemort. Repeating it over and over again Eridanus felt his master relax and regain more or less peaceful state. However, some time later when he was almost asleep, he heard Voldemort hissing inside his mind. Listening closer he could decipher that the man was swearing at him. Eridanus laughed.

"_You're jealous, aren't you?_" he asked Voldemort. With every word the sounds became clearer and louder. They finally could share their thoughts.

"_You did this on purpose. You know you will suffer the consequences_," he heard a menacing hiss in reply.

"_Come on, it wasn't that bad. Now I know you really care for me_," Eridanus' laughed softly, sending waves of affection towards his master.

"_Don't try to placate me, brat, I'm not buying it_."

"_I'm not, I miss you_," Eridanus said sadly. He missed him so much, especially now, that he could hear his deep low voice that he liked so.

"_And that is why you went out with some little slut_," the man spat.

"_How old are you, for Salazar's sake? She dragged me there, besides, she is the part of my 'light' cover. Thankfully she didn't kiss me or I would have vomited on her._"

"_You are mine, Eridanus, you belong to me and nobody NOBODY can touch you_," Voldemort said coldly, and it made Eridanus shiver.

"_I know. I thought I'd kill her, to be honest. Every time somebody touches me I feel the urge to shed blood. So don't worry about that, I will do your dirty work for you,_" he sighed again. He wanted only Voldemort to touch him. But the man was so far away.

"_Eridanus, if I ever find out something like this happened again, I would kidnap you and torture you into insanity_," Voldemort growled. There was his 'you're dead' thing again. Eridanus sighed, not the least impressed.

"_Tom, I promise, nobody would touch me again. I miss you. I want to hold you and kiss you,_" he whispered the last words almost desperately.

"_Well, this is your punishment then_," the man sounded cruelly triumphant. However, Eridanus felt that he also craved for their physical contact and their shared warmth. Now that he could feel his emotions Voldemort couldn't lie to him no matter how hard he tried.

"_I know you miss me too. Good night, Tom. Let's talk tomorrow._"

"_Humph_," Voldemort didn't say anything but Eridanus felt he was still there, and he sent his master more warmth and contentment. After that he fell asleep.

The next night they talked again. Voldemort was still angry with him, but stopped threatening him with a painful death. They decided to talk every night before sleep to strengthen the connection and kept trying to enter each other's mindscapes. They hadn't succeeded yet, but none of them was going to give up. Eridanus also told Voldemort about his strange black patronus but the Dark Lord said it was nothing, black patronuses weren't unheard of, they simply represented the power of the darkness of the caster and his strong connection with the elemental magic. Eridanus' black flames that he could summon indicated that. When Eridanus asked what was Voldemort's patronus, the man ignored his question. He concluded that his master wasn't able to cast it not being used to having emotions other than anger or hate. He asked if Voldemort wanted to try it now, since he could feel again, but his master said he didn't need a patronus since he had already had a pact with the dementors. Eridanus decided to make the man master the spell in the summer, when they would be able to meet.

Their long night conversations helped Eridanus to understand his lord, his friend, better. Voldemort was a fascinating person, with a limitless knowledge, black sense of humor, and, surprisingly, he was a very honest person as well. He preferred the bitter truth to sugar coated lies. He had to lie his whole life to survive, to gain power, to gain control, to gain followers, to make fortune, to fight the war, to live... But if he could, he would have avoided it. Eridanus thought that was one of the reasons his master liked him - his sincerity. Eridanus saw no reason to lie to Voldemort, since he already knew all his secrets. And, perhaps, it was refreshing for the man, helped him relax and fight off his ever constant paranoia.

One day, after yet another long conversation in the night, Eridanus went to the library to look for some additional reading on more complex type of transfiguration. He was interested in becoming an animagus just like his godfather, but decided to leave it until summer holidays to study it with Sirius. So he was looking for a human transfiguration instead. Moving along the shelves absentmindedly, he hadn't noticed that he walked into the student's archive. Coming back to his senses he looked around and realized that there were the graduates' year photo books. He raised an amused eyebrow and read the partly faded numbers on the spines. 1975 - the year his father graduated. He opened the book and shifted through the pages finding the Slytherin's. And there he was, no mistake could be made. A slightly older version of Eridanus was smirking at the camera. He touched the photograph, smiling warmly at it. Rabastan hadn't changed much, simply aged. He flipped through 1977 to look at his mother. She was indeed beautiful, and he had her smile, he decided. He also found Severus, who was scowling, of course. He laughed at the man, who looked rather lost and innocent, comparing to his present intimidating posture. He looked at the spines again, reading the numbers when it hit him.

Tom! He tried to calculate when did the man graduate and after a few misses he finally found him in the book of 1945'. Eridanus stared at the photograph of the boy he conversed with shortly through the journal. Voldemort was a very beautiful child, almost angelic. His face was rounder, softer, and his natural eye colour was teal. The short dark hair were combed back in the 40s style, parted on the side. He looked superior and haughty, but so innocent. Eridanus couldn't believe that he had already made his first horcrux, that just in a few years after this photograph was taken he had already ruined himself, turning to the black magic. He felt so sorry for the lonely boy named Tom who had do go through Hell to simply fall back into it. His birthday was on the 31st of december. Apparently, he never celebrated, like Eridanus, since nobody congratulated him at the fortress. He watched the serious boy longingly, trying hard not to reach out for their link to talk to Tom, when he felt somebody's hand on his shoulder. He instantly recognized the aura - Dumbledore.

"Harry, my boy, what are you doing here?" the kind voice asked him.

"I was looking through the books, found my parents. And was looking for you, sir, but couldn't find you, I thought you were in this year," he waved the book in his hands at the headmaster, "Decided to take a look at the slytherins."

"Do you recognize anybody?" Dumbledore asked carefully, watching him intently.

"No," Eridanus shook his head, "Though I found Draco's grandfather," he smiled and tapped at the photograph of Abraxas Malfoy that was, fortunately, right next to Tom's, "He looks like a carbon copy of his grandfather, this is so ridiculous."

"Ah, yes, the Malfoy genes are very strong," Dumbledore gave him an endearing smile and his eyes began twinkling. It was so easy to fool the old coot, Eridanus mused. Of course, the headmaster would always be suspicious of him, especially if he knew that Eridanus was a horcrux, but nevertheless, it was always a pleasure to be off the man's hook.

"Do you know who this young man is?" Albus suddenly asked, pointing at Tom's photograph. He was sure that Harry didn't know Tom Riddle but he thought that he should probably tell him. It wouldn't hurt to know your enemy's face and true name.

"No, sir, but he looks rather arrogant," Eridanus said, inwardly debating whether the man would tell him about the horcruxes or not.

"This young lovely boy, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was once known to all the wizarding world as Lord Voldemort," the headmaster proclaimed gravely. Eridanus masterfully feigned shock and surprise, googling at the photograph.

"Voldemort? But, but..."

"Yes, my boy, appearances can be deceitful," Albus shook his head sadly, "Tom was a brilliant child but he was very very dark, and he was already insane when he was studying here. I was a transfiguration teacher back then, he was one of my students. Charming, well-mannered and a pathological liar. That was Voldemort. His name is an anagram of itself," he waved his wand in the air and the letters of Tom's full name appeared only to be rearranged into 'I Am Lord Voldemort'. Eridanus tried very hard to imitate shock and complete ignorance. Only Ron Weasley wouldn't have guessed that.

"Why did he kill so many people?" he asked quietly, inwardly asking how many people have the order killed or rather fed to the dementors.

"Because he is a psychopath, Harry," Albus said softly, pleased that the boy could be so easily impressed and manipulated, "He doesn't know guilt, remorse, love, affection, friendship, he is manipulative, cruel, cunning, heartless."

Eridanus almost snorted at the description of himself.

"He is beyond help, my boy, so don't let his innocent face trick you. Besides, for the last ten years before he disappeared he looked nothing like his handsome self, nothing like a human, in fact. He looked like a monster," the headmaster looked at him intently. Eridanus feigned fear.

"But why did he look like a monster, sir?"

"He did something to himself, something terrible and it destroyed his body and his... soul," the man murmured. So he knew about the horcruxes. Then he certainly knew about Eridanus being the one too.

"Oh," the boy breathed out. Albus patted him on the shoulder, satisfied with the conversation.

"Well, I think we will have to talk more about Tom some other time. But now that you know more about him you shouldn't be so afraid of him. Knowledge is power," and with that the man left.

"If only you knew," Eridanus snorted, shaking his head.

**xxx**

The months lazily went by. Lupin tried to teach patronus spell to the students due to the ever active dementors who were still roaming the area, but nobody was able to master it. After yet another attack of the soulsuckers, this time at the quiddich pitch, the school went into the lockdown mode and students weren't allowed to go outside at all. Not that Eridanus complained, he wasn't much of an outdoor person. He spent his free time in the company of Anguis, deciding to leave the Salazar's library in peace for the time being. The great serpent was ecstatic to hear the news of Tom's slow healing process and his and Eridanus' growing friendship. Eridanus continued his practices, now actively experimenting with transfiguration in both latin and parseltongue. The more he tried, the better he got at transfiguring wordlessly and it made him proud.

He found out that the twins completely occupied the Room of the Requirements, turning it into their personal laboratory. They mostly worked on pranks and little traps, but a few of their projects were truly interesting. Fake wands, the fighting powder (the one they used at the beginning of the year), the vanishing cream and many many more. They worked restlessly, paying little attention to their studies. Eridanus couldn't help but admire their genius. He told them he would sponsor their inventions if they would be able to make a profitable business out of them. The twins were ecstatic. He warned them that he was also looking for more serious and... destructive inventions as well, at which he got himself a glare, daring to say something even more stupid. Now he had personal crazy scientists to fulfill his needs.

He and Voldemort finally made progress by the end of april. Once again entering the waters of the black lake in his mindscape, Eridanus found himself being dragged from the bottom of it and out into the halls of... Hogwarts. Voldemort's mindscape was their school. He found himself walking the dim lit corridors with empty frames instead of talking portraits. There were no moving armor, no carpets and no tapestries. Looking around, he felt overwhelmed at first - how would he find Tom in a huge castle? But then he remembered about the Room of Requirement. If nobody knew about it except Tom, then, perhaps it existed here as well. He went to the seventh floor, riding the creepy looking moving staircases, that were severely damaged and burnt in places. Pacing by the familiar bare wall for three times, thinking of Tom, he saw a door appear. He pushed it open and entered the study that looked just like the one at the fortress. He smiled at the familiar surroundings.

"I see you've finally managed it," he heard the voice behind him. A cool hand lay on the back of his neck, snaking under the heavy copper braid. Eridanus turned around and met the blood red eyes that watched him so intently it was almost painful. He grinned madly and hurried to embrace Voldemort, pressing hard into his thin tall frame. His master tentatively embraced him back, burying his long nose into Eridanus hair.

"I missed you so much," Eridanus sighed into his chest, inhaling the man's scent that was real and was just the same. He marvelled at the wonders of the mind magic.

"I... missed you as well," he answered reluctantly. Eridanus didn't mind, he knew it was always hard for Tom to admit his feelings. He smiled and looked up.

"If I came here, then you would be able to enter my mindscape as well. Though yours is amazing! Hogwarts! This must have been incredibly difficult to create, but you're brilliant, so no doubt you managed it," he was smiling at Voldemort, his eyes wide and bright in admiration.

Voldemort tried very hard not to let it but the feeling of pride and pleasure of praise wormed its way into his heart. He pushed his forehead against the boy's and sighed. The familiar sensation of the contact between them washed over him and he closed his eyes, reveling in its warmth and bliss. They stood in silence and Eridanus could feel the growing feel of content and peace that enveloped Voldemort. He smiled at the effect he had on the man. He leaned closer and placed a chaste kiss on the delicately sculpted red lips. A faint shockwave shot through him and he felt being kissed back. Eridanus moaned softly and moved away a little to look at Voldemort.

"You still need to be punished," he hissed quietly, looking into the boy's eyes, searching for something.

"Could we possibly postpone it until the summer? Our minds are the only sanctuaries from the pain and I'd love to leave them as they are. When we meet in the summer, torture me however long and hard you want, I would endure everything for you," he looked back with determination and sincerity. The Dark Lord humphed in agreement and pulled Eridanus back into the embrace, resting his chin on the boy's head. Eridanus rubbed his back slightly, in soothing circles. It was so long since they touched, he wanted to make his master feel comfortable, calm.

"I am still angry with you."

"I know. Do you want to see the memories to believe what I said is true?"

"I have no wish to see such atrocity," Voldemort spat.

"Then simply believe me," Eridanus said, rubbing his master's chest now, moving his hands slowly, feeling the muscles through the fabrics of the black robes.

"I do, it doesn't change the fact that she touched you and you did nothing to prevent that," Voldemort gripped Eridanus' wrists with his hands and, lifting them up, kissed the boy's hot palms. Eridanus cupped his face and moved closer. He pressed their lips against each other for a few moments and then drew back.

"Forgive me," he whispered. He felt his wrists freed. Voldemort kissed him on his scar.

"Go to sleep, Eridanus."

And he found himself in the darkness of his dormitory.

**xxx**

Voldemort went away for a few weeks and they hadn't contacted each other. Eridanus missed their talks. But there was nothing he could do yet. Voldemort told him he wanted Eridanus to spend the summer with him and his family at the fortress. He kept exchanging letters with his father and uncle and they both also expressed their desire to have him for two months with them. He decided that he would be going back and forth between the Grimmauld's and the base so that everybody was pleased.

It was almost the end of may and Voldemort still wasn't talking to him and Eridanus couldn't read his emotions. He felt frustrated and lost. Was there something he had done or said wrong? Didn't his master want him anymore? The old fear of rejection wormed its way back into his heart. He felt devastated. He finally snapped at Ginny whom he had been avoiding all this time. He simply told her off in a few harsh cold words. She ran away crying and it brought him little satisfaction, but somehow eased the pain a little. Just a little. He was clearly depressed and when he felt depressed his darkness clouded his mind. All he could think of was murder. He wanted to shed blood but it was too dangerous to act, since there was no chance of getting out unnoticed and spending enough time in the village to find and kill the victim. He meditated and practiced as much as he could to get rid of the nagging in the back of his mind but it wouldn't let him be. He prayed the holidays could start sooner so that he could go out into the muggle world and free himself. However, Dumbledore deemed it necessary to have a talk with Eridanus at this most inconvenient time. Bracing himself and steeling his mental shields he came into the office, his eyes firmly on his feet.

"Harry, how are you, my boy? Do sit down," the headmaster was cheerful as ever.

"I'm fine, sir, thank you," he modestly sat on the edge of the chair.

"There are a few matters I wish to discuss with you. Now, the first is: do you wish to be resorted into the other house?"

"What?!" Eridanus shock was as natural as it was possible. Had the old coot gone senile?

"It is possible, my boy, we can resort you after the end of the term," Albus twinkled at him.

"But why would I want to be resorted?" he asked incredulously, glaring at the man's beard; his mind racing.

"Well, I thought after you found out Tom, that is, Voldemort was in Slytherin you would want to be resorted."

"This is how prejudices are being made, headmaster," Eridanus wanted to strangle the old coot, "I like my house and I am proud to be a slytherin, and the fact that Voldemort was a snake doesn't change anything. Pettigrew was a lion and where is he now?"

"I see," Albus smiled at him wryly. He had to try, though, he knew the slytherins easily manipulated their students into submission and filled their heads with illusions of unity and family, "Well, it is solely your decision, my boy, I merely asked."

Eridanus nodded, seemingly gratefully, however, on the inside he was fuming and barely restrained himself from saying something he would regret later.

"Oh, and Harry, I am still worried about that incident with the dementors. Are you sure you haven't seen the caster of the black patronus?" Albus knew that only a professor or Harry were able to cast such a difficult spell, and the mere thought of the patronus being dark... Perhaps, the horcrux in Harry affected his core and could make his patronus black?

"Yes, sir," Eridanus said firmly. He knew the old goat wouldn't simply forget about it.

"Can you cast a patronus, Harry?"

"I had little success in professor Lupin's class."

"Would you care to demonstrate?" he smiled at the boy, though he felt disturbed. If Harry was the caster, then it would bring more problems than they had already had.

"Sure," Eridanus nodded. It was very hard to concentrate on the positive emotions when all he felt was blinding rage. Very slowly, which played out well for him, he made the ivory mist emerge from the tip of his wand. His concentration wasn't very strong, so the form of pegasus barely showed in the cloud and disappeared almost immediately. Dumbledore sighed, relieved.

"Well done, my boy, some more practice and you would master it!" he cheered. Eridanus saw red. But nodded politely and ducked his head modestly.

"Now, then there is the matter of your guardian," Albus began after a short pause, carefully watching the boy's face, but it remained blank, "I still think Sirius is a bad influence."

"I won't leave him," Eridanus said firmly, trying no to burn down the office. He could just feel the slight tingles of fire at the edge of his fingertips.

"No, no, I was suggesting that, you should, probably, spend some part of the summer with the Weasleys and -"

"No. I won't go to the Weasleys again. Sir," Eridanus cut him off, standing up, his eyes burning, "Any further words or hints or whatever there is you wish to tell me would be heard only in the presence of my godfather."

"There is no need to take any offense in that, my boy, and no need to be so harsh," Albus tried to placate him, surprised at the boy's antics. Eridanus' body shook in rage.

"I won't let you part me with my family again," though he was talking about the Lestranges he knew Dumbledore would understand it differently, just like he needed.

"My boy, you were clearly misguided -"

"No, enough! Don't call me that, stop ruining my life and the lives of those I care about. Stop," he glared at the headmaster with such cold and unforgiving eyes, that Dumbledore shuddered involuntarily. Just how much the piece of Voldemort's soul affected the boy's mind? Those lifeless cruel eyes were not Harry Potter's.

"I am fed up. Good day, headmaster," Eridanus hissed and stormed out of the office, barely avoiding collision with Severus. The potions master could only shake his head. He knew perfectly well what Dumbledore was planning to tell the young Lestrange and he knew the reaction wouldn't be good. He was actually prepared for a blow up, or fire, or merciless killings, having his potions kit and belongings at ready.

Eridanus spent the rest of the day in the Chamber, fuming and destroying the furniture and dummies around him. Anguis wisely escaped his company. Later that night, Eridanus was still raging, unable to sleep, he lay in his bed and all his thoughts revolved around brutally butchering someone. It was then he felt Voldemort in his mind.

"_What's wrong_?" he sounded bored.

"_Dumbledore_," Eridanus greeted out, not in the mood to talk to somebody who had been ignoring him for so long.

"_What did he do now_?" he heard a tired sigh of his master.

"_Tried to get me resorted and out of Sirius' custody, but I doubt that would interest you very much,_" he tried to block him away but failed.

"_What_?!" Voldemort sounded livid, "_Resorted? Taken from Black? And why are you talking to me like it's all my fault?_" he was actually shouting. It was the first time Eridanus heard him shout. It actually made him feel better.

"_Because you had been ignoring me this past month, I thought you didn't need me anymore. Can you imagine what it felt like? And Dumbledore decided to tell me about what a lovely boy you used to be, telling me you are a psychopath and giving me the basic characteristics of your and my personalities, and then decided to resort me and place with the weasels again, because he knows I am a horcrux and he tries to prevent me from becoming you. And I am so depressed because of you leaving me I am on the verge of coming out and simply killing all the children at the bloody school_," he drawled nonchalantly. Then there was a long numb silence.

Suddenly, Eridanus felt a foreign presence in his mind. He retreated to his mindscape and found Voldemort standing in the meadow, looking around in what seemed to be fascination. He saw Eridanus and hastily walked over to him and took him into his arms. Confused and pleased at the long desired contact, Eridanus looked at him questioningly, while his arms found Voldemort's middle and hugged him tightly.

"I am sorry I ignored you. I was away renewing some of my old contacts and I couldn't keep in touch with you," he looked into the green eyes full of hurt and inwardly cursed himself. He hated it, he hated to hurt Eridanus when he didn't want to.

"I hate you," the boy whispered and hid his face in the layers of Voldemort's robes. The Dark Lord sighed and pulled him closer, carding his hand through the copper hair.

"Eridanus, I won't leave you, you know that. Look at me," he commanded and Eridanus reluctantly obeyed. Voldemort gently stroke his cheek and gave him a sad warm smile, barely noticeable. And that was all Eridanus needed to melt in his arms. Groaning, he threw his arms around his master's neck and pressed his scarred forehead against the cool lips.

"I know. It's just the only thing I am afraid of and fear makes me angry and depressed and makes me want to kill. I am not mad at you, though I should be," he sighed as the kiss was placed on his scar, and then another one.

"Your mindscape is very beautiful. Is it always night in here?" Voldemort whispered.

"Yes," he saw the stars being reflected in the burning blood red eyes and thought that he could never be really mad at this man.

"He won't resort you, nor will he take you away from Black or Lestranges, or me," Voldemort breathed against his ear, "Whatever he does, he won't take you from me. You are mine. Say it, say that you are mine," he could barely hear the words being hissed into his ear, while the long wet tongue caressed his earlobe.

"I am yours, yours," Eridanus whispered, closing his eyes. Oh how he needed this.

"Yesss," Voldemort hissed. His mouth attacked Eridanus' lips with vicious hunger. His tongue forcibly pushed his way through and his teeth bit into Eridanus' soft lips and hot tongue. The boy could only moan loudly and lean into the tall body. Panting, Voldemort pulled away.

"I need you, you must come this summer, as soon as you can. If anybody will try to stop you, tell me and I'll come for you," he hissed, his eyes boring into the boy's. Eridanus nodded and met the hungry lips once more. The hands were roaming over his body, touching, squeezing and scratching. Eridanus was in heaven.

"Don't you ever ignore me again," he breathed out when they parted for the air.

"I'm not taking orders from you. You've got yourself six minutes of cruciatus already, want to prolong it?" his master drawled sarcastically.

"Whatever tickles your fancy, just kiss me," he said simply and this time his order was taken seriously.

After few more minutes of snogging Voldemort reluctantly let go of him and told him not to worry about Dumbledore, his godfather wouldn't give him up easily. He also told Eridanus to talk to him any time he wanted if there was anything at all. They promised to see each other at the end of june, which was only two weeks away. Coming back to reality, Eridanus still couldn't fall asleep, but now because his lips were swollen and because he was aroused and felt safe and content. His master needed him, wanted him. The bastard just kept torturing him all the time. And cruciatus was nothing comparing to what he had gone through these last few weeks. He sighed and smiled to himself. He was fucked up but he felt happy. Just his rotten luck, he mused.

**xxx**

Two weeks went by rather quickly. Eridanus avoided Dumbledore at every cost, mostly hiding in Severus' office to the man's evident ire. Finishing with top marks yet again and having said his goodbyes, he was now waiting nervously in Severus' quarters for Sirius to floo in to take him away. He didn't trust the headmaster and was reluctant to go by train. Sirius, who got his letter, telling him of all the brilliant plans of the old coot towards his godson, agreed to take him out of the school a day earlier without a word. He simply stepped out of the fireplace, hugged the boy, nodded gratefully to scowling Severus and dragged Eridanus through the flames and back to the Grimmauld's. When he read that the headmaster was questioning his guardianship and wanted to place Eridanus with another family without his or the boy's agreement, Sirius found a solicitor and prepared to sue Dumbledore the second he would try to even look in the direction of his godson. He knew he had to contact and meet the Lestrange brothers. They needed to do something with Eridanus' lordship and his safety. He couldn't stay a Harry Potter anymore. And Eridanus agreed. Dumbledore already knew he was a horcrux. It was simply a question of time, when he would connect all the dots and realize that Eridanus was actually the dark wizard who had been ruthlessly killing all this time right under his long nose. But most of all Eridanus needed to see Tom.


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** torture, violence, murder, underage sex, M/M slash._

_A/N: sorry for slow updating, I got carried away with my other story, so this chapter is going to be boring, I'm afraid. Thank you for all the reviews and impatient demands to update faster - you motivate me greatly! I was also editing the previous chapters, since so many of your messaged me regarding the way I write. So I've replaced all the dashes with inverted commas and tried to break all the big paragraphs into smaller ones, since some of you asked for it. Thank you, hope it would be easier for you to read from now on._

* * *

"Eri, we should have that talk, you know," Sirius looked at his godson who seemed to have grown even taller since he last saw him. In a year or two he would caught up with Sirius, no doubt. Eridanus was growing up and maturing very fast indeed, both physically and mentally. Too fast for his liking, if Sirius was to be honest with himself.

"Yes," Eridanus said simply. He knew this was coming, he owed Sirius that much.

"So," his godfather began uncertainly, "Did you hunt on the Yule night? Killed?" there was a flicker of weak hope in his eyes that the answer would be negative.

"Yes, I hunted and killed a muggle," Eridanus sighed. There was no point to hide the truth, since Sirius knew the customs of the dark wizards very well.

They were sitting in the kitchen at the Grimmauld's place, having their lunch. Eridanus hadn't told Sirius about his summer plans yet but knew he needed to do it as soon as possible. Voldemort wouldn't wait, and he couldn't let Sirius get into trouble because of him. Dumbledore was quite enough for the both of them, thank you very much.

"Is killing easy for you? Do you enjoy it?" Sirius furrowed his eyebrows and gave his godson a sad, pained look.

"Yes," Eridanus sighed again, pushing his food around the plate, not really hungry, "I find it very satisfying, it sates my addiction..." he trailed off. Sirius knew just how satisfying it could be, there was no need for him to elaborate. His godfather nodded in grave understanding.

"And you are not going to stop," he confirmed more to himself than to the boy. Eridanus nodded. "You know it pains me that you are capable of taking a life so easily, without any remorse, but I am in no position to judge you. It is partly my fault, if I hadn't left you but raised you on my own, you wouldn't have had to endure all the horrors..." Sirius shook his head and hunched, leaning his elbows on the table. He looked lost and hurt. Eridanus could only sigh and pity him. Sirius couldn't change anything now, he knew that very well, and his dwelling was useless. They sat in silence for some time, their plates long forgotten, both lost their appetite it seemed. Kreacher brought them tea. Twirling the cup in his hands, Eridanus eyed his godfather carefully. He didn't want to upset him any further, but they needed to discuss his staying at the fortress.

"Sirius, what are your plans for the summer? Would you be going to the sea with Remus?" he asked tentatively.

"We wanted to go, but with Dumbledore on your back now, I don't think it is going to be a good idea," his godfather looked at him inquiringly, sensing that he had something to say.

"On the contrary, I think you should go. Father and uncle want to take me for the summer, but I settled on spending time here and there equally, since it is only a matter of portkeying back and forth. You need your vacation, as does Remus, and I want to spend time with Lestrangers and you too. Besides, if you go away, you would show Dumbledore that you have everything under control and don't give a damn for his machinations," Eridanus told him carefully, looking at his godfather intently. He was apparating, of course, but the man didn't need to know about the mark just yet.

"And what about him?" Sirius asked, emphasizing the last word, "Does he want you to spend your time at the fortress?"

"Yes," Eridanus knew very well whom the man was referring to, "I met the Inner Circle, they all accepted me pretty well, so there is no danger for me now."

"Eri, are you going to take the mark?" Sirius looked grave.

"Yes," he lied, "I know what exactly it entails and I am willing to embrace it."

"You do know how Regulus end-"

"Yes," Eridanus cut him off, "Regulus died because he betrayed Voldemort, but the Dark Lord didn't kill him," he gave Sirius a light glare.

"How can you know that?" Sirius stared at him in disbelief.

"Voldemort told me, when I asked him. Regulus was missing for a long time and the death eaters never found him, nor did the Dark Lord. Regulus had stollen one of his precious artifacts, magically hidden somewhere far away in the sea, and died in the process, it seems. I found the artifact and gave it back to Voldemort, so he told me the truth," Eridanus looked down at his empty cup. He heard Sirius shifting in his seat.

"You seem to be close with Voldemort," Sirius noted. The news of Regulus tragic death saddened him even more, since now he couldn't even blame it on the Dark Lord. But it didn't escape him that Eridanus usually spoke of the man freely, easily, as if they were friends. And that thought seemed disturbing enough to distract him from grieving his long dead brother.

"We are friends," Eridanus settled at telling the truth, well, most of it. He met a shocked face of his godfather and inwardly groaned. How long would he have to go through the same reaction over and over again?

"I see," Sirius sounded suspiciously subdued. He leaned closer and looked into the boy's eyes intently, searching for something. Not finding anything, he sighed, defeated. "If you are certain you can handle the insane megalomaniac and you are certain you won't get hurt, than I wouldn't say anything on the matter. I am responsible for your well being and happiness. If this," he waved his hand and Eridanus, "Makes you happy, than I will keep my mouth shut."

"It makes me very happy, Sirius, you can't imagine how much your words mean to me!" Eridnaus smiled him, relieved and grateful. Sirius proved to be a wonderful guardian again.

"Well, then, I suppose we would go abroad for some time," he looked away, rubbing his hair resentfully. It was better to let Eridanus do as he wanted, better not to cause the Dark Lord's wrath. However, he needed guarantees that his godson would be unharmed.

"I need to meet the Lestranges. I want to talk to them about revealing your true parentage. I was at Gringotts yesterday and had a chat with your account manager Krohl and the Potter's one and mine, we looked through the documents and found a way of readdressing your mother's part of the will to your new name. I need your father's blood signature that he accepts me as the guardian of his son, and that he recognizes Lily Evans as your biological mother, so that her naming me your guardian would be legal no matter what your name is. If we do it, than we can safely admit to the public that you are not Harry Potter anymore and never was, that you are Lord of the Lestrange house under my guardianship. In case Dumbledore or the Ministry would raise Hell, we can emancipate you. It would be difficult, but there is nothing that our money cannot buy," Sirius was confident they would succeed. Eridanus smiled at him warmly and nodded in agreement. The plan sounded perfect and he knew his father would do anything to ensure that he stayed with Sirius.

"Alright, I would go there after dinner and talk to them. I think it would be better to bring Rabastan here, so that you could meet peacefully. It is possible to bring the goblins here, isn't it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows uncertainly. At Sirius's affirmative nod he continued, "Well, that way it would be simple, really."

"Fine, I'll call the goblins and inform them of the meeting," Sirius nodded again. He then looked at Eridanus and, shrugging his shoulders, asked, "When are you planning to go there?"

"Actually, I was thinking about tomorrow after we're done with the documents," Eridanus bit his lower lip and smiled at his godfather sheepishly, "But I can come back the next day, I am free to go as I please," he added hastily.

"Fine, but do come back the next day. I was planning to take you and Remus somewhere out of London," Sirius warned and Eridanus smiled excitedly.

**xxx**

Later that day, after he and Sirius had dinner, Eridanus apparated to the fortress. He was disappointed to find that Voldemort was absent. He left a letter in his study, that explained what he and Rabastan were going to do the next day at Grimmauld's. They haven't talked since the last time at Hogwarts - Eridanus felt his master was under pressure for the last few days and didn't bother him. He went to find Rabastan and Rodolphus. After both brothers embraced him and had their share of fussing over how tall he got and how more mature, he told them about Sirius' plan and they found it satisfying. Eridanus was to come in the morning to take Rabastan to the house and key him into the wards. He came back to Sirius and had finally slept during the whole night peacefully.

Eridanus couldn't help being a little wary when he brought Rabastan to the Grimmauld's the next morning, he wasn't sure that his father and Sirius would be able to act civilly around each other. However, they only exchanged a few suspicious hostile glares but otherwise behaved themselves perfectly. They talked for a while about Eridanus and his lordship. Sirius was rather blunt in his interrogation regarding his godson's safety in the presence of the Dark Lord. Rabastan could only smirk at that but assured Sirius that the boy was safe between the three of them and that Voldemort valued his life. That allowed Sirius to relax, just a little bit. Lestrange agreed with him that right now Dumbledore was a bigger threat than his lord. When goblins arrived they spent hours reading all the documents carefully, correcting points here and there, discussing every little detail. Though both Sirius and Rabastan were not very fond of the paperwork they showed an unbelievable patience and thoughtfulness while working on the matter. Eridanus felt proud and warm that they were doing all this because of him, FOR him. But when they were finally finished and Sirius officially became a godfather of Eridanus Rabastan Lestrange, it was already late. Rabastan suggested Eridanus to stay and come the day after tomorrow, after he spent time with Remus and Sirius. He agreed. After the older men shook hands, his father expressed his gratitude to Sirius and left. Eridanus asked his godfather what the man thought of Rabastan. Sirius had to admit, that the man was worth his respect and clearly cared for his son, which was the most important fact.

**xxx**

The next day was spent in a haze. They traveled all over the country in Remus' company, visiting old english towns, exploring the ruins of ancient castles to the everlasting werewolf's storytelling. Remus was a walking history book, though he had a talent of turning dry facts into an exciting adventure story, so the three of them enjoyed their day immensely. When they returned late in the evening, Eridanus felt exhausted, but Remus didn't want to hear about that unless the boy had his dinner. Rolling his eyes at the fussing werewolf Eridanus stumbled into the kitchen and slumped down into the chair next to Sirius, who was yawning and smiling at him mockingly.

However, just when they were finished and Eridanus stood up to leave for his room, he felt the shift in the wards, as did Sirius, who jumped on his feet and drew his wand in a flash. But before they could even move closer to the door Eridanus found the oh so familiar darkness calling for him and, smiling widely, he gestured for Sirius that everything was fine. He ran into the hall and stopped abruptly when his eyes met the tall dark silhouette standing out sharply in the candle light. Eridanus' heart stopped for a second it seemed, as he caught his breath. Although they've been reading each other's emotions and thoughts and even met in their mindscapes during these past six months it all was nothing comparing to finally meeting each other in the real life. Eridanus darted towards Voldemort and was instantly enveloped into a strong passionate embrace. He threw his arms around his master's neck and hid his face into his robes, marveling the feeling of the firm body pressed against his, and the master's familiar scent tickling his nose.

"Tom, I missed you so much," Eridanus whispered and smiled, not looking up.

Voldemort, who was holding him tightly, couldn't and didn't want to say anything. He buried his nose into the boy's hair and closed his eyes, wondering how was it possible to feel so restless, feel trapped during all this time and to find peace and comfort just by finally holding Eridanus in his arms. Did he really miss him so much? Was he that dependent on the copper haired walking catastrophe? He kissed the top of the boy's head.

"Where have you been? I found your letter but you didn't come today," he hissed irritably. Eridanus finally met his burning blood red eyes and opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Sirius' voice.

"The hell is going on here?" Sirius and Remus both stood at the end of the hall and watched the scene in front of them with wide eyes. The tall, menacingly looking, red eyed man in black was no doubt the Dark Lord himself, if Walburga holding her hands firmly clasped over her mouth and staring wildly at her young and human looking master was any indication of that. But what was more, the said Dark Lord was embracing Sirius' godson and kissing him. In the hallway of his house, warded house!

"I came to take what's mine," was the answer. Voldemort slowly turned his head to look at Black. Walburga, seeing him looking in her direction, hastily tried to bow inside of her portrait frame. Sirius raised his eyebrows at the phrasing and gave Eridanus an inquiring look. His godson only smiled at him and pressed harder against the Dark Lord. Their behavior was most disturbing and confusing for both Sirius and Remus. When Eridanus told his godfather he and Voldemort were friends, he never mentioned they were THAT close. And then the thought of who and how exactly could become so close to the Dark Lord entered his mind and he stared at the pair in horror.

"Yours?" tensing, Sirius stepped closer, though his hands were trembling ever so slightly, "Eri," he called out, looking at the boy worriedly, "Are you alright? How did he get inside?"

"I told you we are friends. And I missed my friend greatly," Eridanus smiled warmly and nuzzled into his master's neck, sighing contentedly at the blissfulness of their contact.

Voldemort looked down at him and smirked, "Eri?" The boy shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. The Dark Lord turned to his godfather again, "Do not worry, Black, your Eri is safe with me. Since he shared his blood with me to complete my resurrection, I can penetrate any wards he is hiding behind." With that he placed another kiss on Eridanus' head. Sirius only gaped at him, while gobsmacked Remus stood frozen, unable to move or say anything at all. The whole situation seemed to be surrealistic.

"It's fine, Siri, stop staring already," Eridanus muttered, "Nobody forces me into anything. Remember what you told me? As long as I am happy you wouldn't hold me back. I am happy now, relax," he looked at his godfather seriously, pleading him with his eyes. Sirius frowned, his eyes still full of disbelief and shock, and nodded, reluctantly. He did promise his godson not to stand in his way unless he was harmed. By the looks of him he wasn't, quite the contrary, and that was exactly what irked him. No matter follower or supporter, nobody could be held in the arms of the monster and feel happy about it. However, Eridanus proved long ago that he wasn't anybody, but the exception to the rule.

"We are leaving," Voldemort growled, bored and annoyed with the situation already, "Eridanus would come back tomorrow or the day after, however he pleases, Black." And with that they both vanished into the thin air, still holding each other tightly.

Sirius stared at the empty spot, then at his mother, then at Remus. Nobody said a word - what could they say, really?

**xxx**

They apparated into Voldemort's study. Still holding onto his master, Eridanus looked around and smiled at the surroundings, he realized he began calling 'home'. A long cold finger pushed his chin up and right to turn his face back to the man who was holding him. Voldemort looked into his eyes, and Eridanus found there was pleasure, content, warmth in the blood red eyes of his lord. He smiled softly, feeling elated. His fingers carded through the dark short hair on their own accord.

"You've grown taller, you look older, more mature now," Voldemort murmured, gently stroking his cheeks with his fingers, sending shivers down his spine with a simple featherlight touch, "The dark magic took its tall on you, hardened you. You are not a boy anymore," he looked pensive. Eridanus leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, savoring the taste of his master's skin on his lips.

"I'm finally home," he sighed contentedly against the man's ear. Voldemort blinked dumbly at that taking in the words. Eridanus called his home his own as well. He felt the fire spreading in his chest. What was this boy doing to him? Such ridiculous words never affected him before, why would they make him feel so pleased now? He frowned but found little sense in dwelling on that any longer. He had realized some time ago that from the moment he met Eridanus his life wasn't going to be the same, to be normal, as normal as it could be in his position.

"It's late, little one, you should rest. We have a whole day to ourselves tomorrow," he placed a kiss on Eridanus' temple. The boy only nodded tiredly.

"I will go to my room then," he whispered, not letting go of the dark hair, tangled in his hands. His eyes were closed, a small smile graced his lips. Seeing his tired but pleased, beautiful face, Voldemort thought he didn't want to let go of him tonight. And who was there to deny him his wish?

"No. You will sleep with me tonight," he commanded and stirred the boy out of the study and into the next room.

Eridanus opened his eyes and looked at his master questionably, barely moving his feet in time to keep up with the man. But Voldemort didn't meet his gaze, he brought him into his bedroom and pushed him onto the bed. Eridanus propped himself up on his elbows, looking around. The room was dark, decorated in deep brown wood and dark green wallpaper; the four poster bed was also of a dark wood with black curtains around it. There was a lit up fireplace, that made the air thick with warmth. He caught the sight of a big antique wardrobe somewhere on his right but was distracted by the form of undressing Voldemort. His lord took off his robes and stood in front of him wearing only a pair of black trousers. Eridanus took in his thin naked torso: his skin was pale and many blue lines of veins could be seen all over his chest and arms. Although Voldemort was thin, his body didn't seem weak, he was toned up well. Undressed, he looked even younger and Eridanus couldn't help but lick his lips hungrily. His master was perfect in any possible way.

Cool hands found their way on his neck, undoing the collar, then his outer robe. Eridanus watched as Voldemort slowly undressed him, sitting next to him on the bed. The Dark Lord seemed fascinated with the process, paying attention to every single button. He pushed the robe off of the boy's shoulders and banished it with a flick of his wrist. He worked on the shirt for a while and banished it as well. Eridanus was watching him, breathing slowly, shivering under the cool touch. Voldemort stroke his naked chest, tracing the muscles and veins, his long fingers brushed over boy's nipples and Eridanus gasped softly, catching the thin cool hand into his, forcing it to repeat the motion. Voldemort smirked at him and bent down to place a kiss on his collarbone. When he did, Eridanus threw his hands around his master's neck and their bodies pressed against each other. At first he thought his body was caught on fire, so strong was the sensation of the skin on skin contact. Voldemort, feeling the same, hummed contentedly and placed another kiss on Eridanus' neck, collarbone again, shoulder, chest. Eridanus kept tagging the dark short hair and moaned softly. Voldemort stopped and looked up at him.

"We both need some sleep, my little one," he waved his hand and their trousers were banished as well, leaving them both in their underwear only. He moved to lie on his side next to Eridanus and pulled him closer, enveloping him into his arms. The blanket was thrown over them. Eridanus sighed and snuggled against Voldemort's chest, snaking his arm around the man's waist. The cool hands of his master rubbed his back in slow soothing circles and he nuzzled into the man's neck and didn't notice as he finally fell asleep. Voldemort lay awake for a while, rubbing the boy's back, enjoying the feel of a warm body pressed against his, the feel of a thin hand around his waist, fingers brushing against his skin. He placed his chin on top of the copper head and stared into the darkness of the room. He never slept with another person in his bed, never held a naked body so close, so tightly. The sensations he experienced were new to him, they fascinated him. Feeling the other's skin under his fingers was surprisingly pleasant, arousing. The steady breathing against his neck and a faint heartbeat against his chest brought him the unusual peace, the harmony that he had long forgotten even existed. Reveling in Eridanus' warm embrace and most pleasant company he realized that he enjoyed being human again and never wanted to loose himself ever again. He closed his eyes and soon was lulled into the deep content sleep.

**xxx**

Eridanus opened his eyes. Through the dark heavy curtains of the bed he saw the faint rays of sunlight peeking into the room. It was early morning and he lay in the comfortable warm bed against a firm cool chest of... He sat up and saw Voldemort sleeping next to him. Eridanus chuckled at himself, he slept so peacefully this night he forgot why. Still smiling he looked down at his master. Voldemort's face was relaxed and looked younger, he looked so much like Tom from the school photo book, only his hair were longer and spread around him on the pillow. He looked so innocent, so harmless. Eridanus reached out and gently placed his hand on the chest, feeling the muscles and bones that showed through. He slowly moved his hand lower, exploring the form, enjoying the contact. He traced the uneven scars and small moles with his fingertips. Eridanus had never touched another human being in such fashion, had never been so close to anybody but his victims, never been naked in another's presence. He found he enjoyed it, very much so. He pushed the blanket away to have a better look at the thin body under his hand. He bent down and inhaled the scent, pushing his nose against the soft skin. Involuntarily he licked it, savoring the sweet taste. Pleased, he shifted and lay down, putting his head on Voldemort's stomach and circling his arms around the man's narrow waist. He entertained the idea of spending his every morning like this, on Tom's body.

"Do I even need my own room anymore?" Eridanus asked when he noticed the blood red eyes watching him. The smirk on his lord's face was his answer. Voldemort carded his fingers through the long copper locks looking at the mischievously smiling face of his boy. Yes, his boy, his little one, his Eridanus. The cunning green eyes challenged him, laughed at him and for the first time in his life he found he liked it. He liked that somebody could defy him, not caring about the consequences, that somebody could be kind to him, and laugh at him not mockingly but affectionately. Voldemort despised those who dared to laugh, he found it to be most humiliating. However, his Eridanus was a completely different matter. His Eridanus was allowed to do anything, as long as he kept looking at him like that. The notion, that such a cruel cold boy, heartless and emotionless towards the others, could be so kind, gentle and admiring towards him, pleased Voldemort, turned him on. He took Eridanus by the arms and pulled him up to kiss him on the lips. His. His alone.

"Where did you get those small scars?" Eridanus breathed out when their lips parted. Voldemort gave him a small smile.

"All that time I've been away I was reconnecting with my old allies. Werewolves, giants, vampires," he sneered and earned a small chuckle from the boy, "The latter were rather hard to convince, and these scars are the evidence of that."

"Why did you go alone?" Eridanus frowned at him, his face darkened.

"Because it is easier to work alone. Company would have caused more troubles than actual use. Had I taken somebody with me, they would have surely died, and I am no Savior," he drawled sarcastically, "I have no use for incompetent idiots who can't defend themselves."

"Next time you will take me with you," Eridanus narrowed his blazing eyes coldly. Voldemort quirked an amused eyebrow. There showed the little bloodthirsty monster that Eridanus truly was: cold, demanding, powerful.

"Giving orders again?" he pushed the boy onto the back and pinned him down with his body, and glared at him warningly. But Eridanus only smiled at him, mirth once again flickering in his bright eyes.

"I will go with you the next time, and you wouldn't be able to get rid of me, I promise you that," he chuckled and kissed Voldemort soundly on the lips. The Dark Lord deepened the kiss and bit into the boy's hot tongue. Eridanus was clearly asking to be punished, craved it, otherwise he wouldn't have been antagonizing him all the time, would he? They parted, both panting, trying to steady their breaths.

"Do you want me to torture you before or after breakfast?" Voldemort hissed, squeezing the boy's throat painfully, "Six minutes of cruciatus, remember?"

"Let's do it before breakfast," Eridanus rasped out, unable to talk properly. He felt adrenaline rushing through his body. Excited, he shifted under his master's weight, struggling for breath.

"As you wish, my little one," Voldemort purred, pleased. With one last kiss he pulled away from Eridanus completely and stood up, putting his robes on. Eridanus, breathing heavily, turned on his side to look at the long strong back of his master. The sight of his naked body and the excitement of upcoming torture aroused him and he thought that he wanted to thrash in pain under his master's weight pinning him down. Yes, he mused, he wanted to be as close to Voldemort as possible, to be more intimate with him. He blushed at the images that flashed through his mind and hid his burning face in the pillow. Salazar, it was his luck he mastered occlumency, he would have died of embarrassment if Voldemort saw those... wild fantasies. The Dark Lord turned to look at him, sensing his discomfort. Seeing his hidden red face he snorted, amused.

"What is it, Eridanus?" he tilted his head and smiled unkindly, thinking that he might just guess what was going on in that lovely head of his boy. "Go on, get up," he waved at him impatiently. Eridanus complied, slowly dragging himself up from the bed. He stood up straight and looked down shyly, under the hungry eyes of his master, that were taking in every inch of his body. Voldemort felt his wand in his hand and smiled viciously. The day had began the best way possible.

Eridanus had to spend an hour in the infirmary, being healed, drinking the pain relieving and nerve recuperating potions. Voldemort used all the six minutes to torture him, letting him retreat into his mind on the fourth, only to push him back to consciousness again to experience the last most painful forty seconds, when his muscles began to tear and his body was bleeding all over. He never felt that terrible physically before, most of his limbs were still numb from hurting and didn't obey him. But the brightly shining pleased eyes of his lord, watching him hungrily, were enough for him to gather his strength to endure the pain and discomfort. He was smiling at Voldemort, who stroke his hair affectionately, yes, most affectionately, when Rabastan and Rodolphus peeked into the infirmary. Seeing Eridanus all blooded and bandaged, smiling at their lord and all but purring under his gentle caress, both brother halted at the threshold uncertainly. Eridanus let their master torture him yet again, unbearably cruelly this time, but still looked happy and pleased with it. Rabastan could only shake his head in sadness and disbelief - his son was obviously masochistic. Sadism was common and normal for their family, but masochism wasn't. His boy endured so much violence in his childhood that now he enjoyed it, on both sides. And his lord... he looked so pleased, so content. The small smile that graced his young beautiful face was unknown to Rabastan, he never saw it before. And the caresses he gave Eridanus were so genuine, so human. He loved the boy, in his own sadistic way, but loved him nevertheless and went as far as showing him his emotions, feeling for him. Rodolphus nudged his brother on the elbow, telling him it was time to leave. They wouldn't disturb the strange sick harmony that found its place between Voldemort and Eridanus. Torture or not, the two were happy together. If this was the price of peace and better life - they would pay it.

**xxx**

The next three weeks passed quickly in a constant apparating between Grimmauld's and the fortress. Eridanus spent his time dueling with his father and uncle and Voldemort, who was solely using parselmagic and challenged him to go further and further beyond the limits of imagination in the usage and modifying of spells. The Dark Lord personally removed the ministry's trace from Eridanus' wand and now he was able to practice non-stop without fear to be discovered. He was perfecting his dueling skills with a blinding speed. He dueled against both brothers at once and rarely lost. And he and Voldemort kept sleeping together, when he stayed at the fortress, but never went further than kissing. The Dark Lord restrained himself as hard as he could. He knew he didn't want to take his little one forcibly, he wanted Eridanus to ask him, to give himself up, to beg to be taken - and if the boy was still unsure he was ready to wait. He enjoyed their time together so much he thought he could show some patience. Besides, his sexual hunger was usually sated by torturing Eridanus, who readily submitted to pain. Slowly prolonging cruciatus' hold, the Dark Lord later decided to turn to some additional vicious curses he could use. He found the blood boiling curse most satisfying.

At Grimmauld's Eridanus preferred to spend his time reading the Black library, or going out into the muggle and wizarding world in the company of Sirius and Remus. He convinced them to take a long vacation from the end of july and to the last week of august. Remus was coming back to teach DADA at Hogwarts and needed all the rest he could get. Not that Eridanus was trying to get rid of them, he loved spending his time with the two men, he simply thought that they should have used their free time better, he had a father and an uncle to be monitored by, they didn't have to waste their lives baby-sitting him.

Dumbledore kept suspiciously quiet but Krohl informed Eridanus that the headmaster visited Gringotts and inquired about the Potter will, however, the goblins refused to show him the document due to its placement in a frozen vault. When Dumbledore discovered that the Potter accounts were frozen and only the fund vault was still open he, of course, was mad. But there was nothing the old man could do, Eridanus had every right to freeze his accounts especially if he was provided by his godfather. Dumbledore tried to find out about Black's account activities but, of course, was showed out of the door. Since then he kept to himself. Eridanus didn't know whether it was a good or a bad sign.

They were planning to reveal his true name and parentage at the end of august at the Britain's Dueling Competition, which he would be entering as Lord Lestrange. Nobody could predict what Dumbledore would do then, but one thing they knew for sure: he wouldn't be able to take Eridanus away from Sirius or place him forcibly into any family. The goblins modified the documents in such a way, that they left no loopholes for the headmaster - he wasn't Eridanus magical guardian anymore, since he changed his name officially and the ministry records changed, discarding the birth certificate of one Harry Potter, replacing it with one of Eridnaus Lestrange. Since it was done magically and supervised personally by Lucius Malfoy, none was the wiser, and when the truth was revealed the wizarding community would discover that the Savior of the Light Harry Potter never existed. This was Voldemort's part of the plan - he came up with an idea to frame Dumbledore for loosing the real Harry Potter and forcing the name on the heir of the Lestrange family. When people found out they were tricked into worshipping the dark wizard instead of the true Savior they would raise Hell and loose their trust in Dumbledore. And that would be, coincidentally, the time of Voldemort's coming back into the world with no Boy-Who-Lived to fight against him. That was going to be a low blow to the Light and the Ministry.

The day before his birthday Sirius and Remus left for Brazil, promising Eridanus to bring him a mountain of exotic fruits and presents when they would return. Sirius dragged him to the side and tried to interrogate him once again on what exactly was going on between him and Voldemort, but Eridanus only laughed at his godfather and told him that nobody was forcing him to do anything he didn't want to and both Lestranges were watching him like hawks. Not entirely convinced, Sirius dismissed the matter but warned his godson that if he didn't meet Copper with a letter in her claws every five days, he would come and seize the fortress on his own. Chuckling at his antics Eridanus hugged him and promised to write, quite sure that Lord Black was capable to carry out his threat. After seeing Sirius and Remus off Eridanus apparated to the fortress.

**xxx**

On the 31st of july was planned his official introduction to all the death eaters. They were to arrive in the evening and Voldemort went away until then. Eridanus decided to spend his free time lazying in the drawing room at the base wing, reading the book on advanced human transfiguration Rabastan found for him at the library. The both Lestranges were accompanying their lord and never told Eridanus where they were going. So he was left to his own devices, not that he complained, he was used to being alone. However, Cypreus, who was dying of boredom without his master, sought the boy out to socialize.

::It's so good to have you here this summer. I thought Master would burn the place down, back in spring::, he hissed nonchalantly, crawling up the sofa and onto Eridanus' chest. The snake grew considerably, being now good two meters in length and weighing almost as Eridanus himself did. ::You do know he missed you like mad, don't you? He tortured those idiots, who call themselves his followers, because they were not you::, he huffed and Eridanus thought that, if it was possible, he might have also rolled his black eyes.

::Did he now?:: He scratched the copper scales.

::Yesss, and you clearly enjoy that he suffers because of you::, Cypreus hissed reveling in the caress.

::Of course::, Eridanus lughed, ::I suffered as well::, he added pretending to look hurt.

::Well, are you going to bond with him or not?:: the snake sighed exasperatedly. Eridanus looked at him questioningly.

::We are already bonded, Cypreus, by all possible means::

::Are you really that thick or are you insulting my intelligence?:: Cypreus glared at the boy. Seeing confusion in his eyes the snake clicked his forked tongue, annoyed, ::You've been sleeping with him all this time and you haven't bonded yet - what are you waiting for? To grow a beard? It is a disgusting feature, believe me::

::I... I don't know, I'm not ready yet?:: Eridanus stared at the copper scaled reptile helplessly.

::Nonsense::, Cypreus huffed, ::Look at you, you are big enough and strong, you are ready. And my Master is so happy simply sleeping with you, just imagine how would he be when he claims you!:: he sounded excited.

Eridanus didn't know if he should scold the snake for being nosy or laugh at his obvious fussing over Voldemort's personal life. However, he caught himself more than once thinking about being more intimate with Tom, having sex with him. One one hand he knew he was still too young, but on the other... the hunger and lust he saw in those blood red eyes made him want to give in, to simply offer himself that instant. And, of course, he wanted Tom too. He never knew what's it like to want somebody, to need to hold and touch and kiss another person, but with Tom he learnt it all and found that he craved more. His lack of experience made him feel unconfident, but there was nobody else except Tom for him, and, if he were to admit it to himself, he didn't really want to wait any longer.

::I don't know, Cypreus::, he frowned at the snake.

::What's there to know? He loves you and wants you, you love him and want him, I don't see any problem:: he hissed nonchalantly and shifted to arrange his coils more comfortably around the boy's body.

::Loves me?!:: Eridanus stared at him in disbelief. Tom loved him? But Eridanus didn't know what love was he couldn't love back... Did he love Tom? Was what he felt towards him love? This fire that burnt in his chest every time they touched; the pleasant longing in his heart when he saw the beautiful face smirking or smiling at him; the excitement he felt when he looked into those brilliant blood red eyes; the way he melted under the featherlight touches and caresses; his breath catching when he heard the deep velvet voice call out his name; the pleasure he experienced every time Tom tortured him, and reached an orgasm watching him thrashing at his feet, screaming - was all this love?

::Salazar, you are thick!:: Cypreus shook his head in exasperation.

But before Eridanus could say anything he was interrupted by Bellatrix.

She was left behind at the fortress and, presumably, dying of boredom and lack of wand, decided to seek Eridanus out as well. Unable to use magic she snapped at everybody without any reason, being hysterical more often than not. Everyone pitied her, for her mind was incurable. She entered the drawing room with a sneer on her face and came closer to the sofa, watching the snake out of the corner of her eye. Cypreus swore at her and Eridanus had to hide his face behind the book to not burst into laughter. He often wondered of the snake was raised by sailors, for he had an impressive vocabulary consisting of particularly foul dirty words.

"Ickle Eridanus is having a big night," she sing-sang in the most odious sweet voice, "Who would have thought that a fourteen year old brat could worm his way up the ranks so easily," she snatched the book out of his hands and threw it on the floor, glaring at him. Her dark grey eyes were full of venom and hatred, jealousy. Oh yes, she was jealous of him, he knew that, he could feel it in her darkness.

"Good afternoon, aunt Bella," Eridanus drawled, knowing better than taking her baits, "I was going to have lunch, would you like to join me?"

"Stop acting like you own this place, you are nothing, filthy half-blood," she hissed menacingly, "Our lord will soon see through your charade and will get rid of you. I don't know what you did to him, what kind of magic did you use on him, but I will get to the bottom of this, mark my words!"

"Bella," Eridanus sighed tiredly, draping the huge Cypreus over his shoulders, "I really don't want to fight with you all the time. It is terrible what Azkaban had done to you, but I am tired of listening to your endless complaints," he stood up, towering over her with all his height, "It is not my fault our lord doesn't want to fuck you," he spat and turned to leave.

"How dare you!" she bellowed, "Little slut!" she leapt to hit him, but stopped abruptly when Cypreus moved to hover over her and hissed at her warningly. Eridanus shook his head and stroke the snake soothingly.

"Calm down, Cypreus, she is not worth it," he strode to the door.

"I will get you, Eridanus, beware," she screamed at his back. Eridanus rolled his eyes and proceeded his calm walk to the dinning room.

The woman was unbearable, even Rodolphus couldn't stand her anymore, and he was famous for his extraordinary patience. Right now Bella was harmless, but as soon as Voldemort gave her her wand back, it would become a Pandemonium, no less. She would, no doubt, fight him every time she saw him. He wasn't afraid, in fact, he knew she wouldn't stand a chance against him. But he was reluctant to kill one of his lord's followers - they needed everyone to execute Voldemort's plans. However, her jealousy pleased him. He knew he was the only one who got the special attention of their lord, nobody could ever get so close to him before. And Bella was one of his crazy fans, she worshipped Voldemort and kissed the ground he walked on. Perhaps, if she herself hadn't behaved liked a slut, she might have gained her lord's admiration, but she couldn't even make her own husband respect her, Eridanus thought and sneered in disgust. Yet, their lord wanted only Eridanus. Did it really mean he actually loved him?

**xxx**

In the evening Lestranges came back and Rabastan found him in the library, hunched over the same transfiguration book. His father put a hand on his shoulder and gave him an encouraging look. In his other hand he held Eridanus' death eaters robes and golden mask. The boy looked at it and gave his father a nod. He took the robes and changed - the heavy thick velvet fitted him perfectly, complimenting his height and broad shoulders. Rabastan looked at him appraisingly, a flicker of pride could be seen in his vibrant blue eyes. Eridanus couldn't help but blush and smile shyly at him - he still couldn't get used to having a father who cared for him and felt proud of him. Rabastan chuckled and shook his head. His son looked like a sixteen year old, had the mind of an adult, but sometimes acted like a small lost boy and Rabastan treasured this particular streak. He gently took Eridanus by the chin and pushed his head up to look into his face once again before he put the golden mask on it. He then turned Eridanus around and braided his hair into a thick plait of a complex pattern, just like the one he himself wore. When he was finished, Rabastan put on his golden mask and pulled the hood of his robes over his head. Eridanus did the same and followed his father into the ceremonial hall.

The Inner Circle stood in a straight line behind the throne. Voldemort in his snake form sat on it, stroking Cypreus, who was draped all over his body. He was watching the arriving death eaters with a sneer of disdain on his face, that sent them all down on their knees trembling and praying to live for another day. Eridanus and Rabastan met Rodolphus at the doors and entered the hall together, marching in step with each other, all three of almost the same height and built. The black mass moved to let them through. They silently approached the throne, kneeled and kissed Voldemort's robes greeting him in unison and moved to stand in the line behind him. The Middle Tier of silver masked death eaters stepped forward and positioned themselves in a semi-circle close to the throne. The Outer Circle, which consisted of approximately a hundred of lowest death eaters in white porcelain masks, stood behind the Middle Tier. When Voldemort nodded, they all kneeled and greeted him, "My lord!" Their voices echoed through the bare stone hall.

"My dear followers," the Dark Lord began, "I gathered you all here today to bring you great news. First, I am coming back into the wizarding world this august." At that the crowd cheered, some men shared excited looks, anticipating some action that was surely to come soon. Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into a wry scary smile.

"Yes, we will strike on the day of the Quidditch World Cup championship. My officers," he gestured at the Middle Tier, "Would join you on the day of the attack and you would cause chaos and bring destruction and despair to the Light. We will remind them of our force, of our might." The crowd cheered again, louder this time, encouraged by their lord's passionate words.

"But I have more news for you," Voldemort raised a hand and everyone went silent, "Today I would like you all to meet the new member of the Inner Circle. He joined us some time ago, but, most importantly, he was the one who found me and was directly involved in my resurrection," at that he glared at his followers and they all hang their heads down in shame and fear. Voldemort sneered and turning to his right waved his hand at Eridanus, "Come closer, Eridanus."

Eridanus stepped down from the platform and stood before his master. Voldemort got up, pushing Cypreus on the floor, and stepped close to him, putting his white bony hand on his shoulder. "Meet Lord Eridanus Rabastan Lestrange, the long lost but fortunately found heir of the noble and pure house of Lestrange," he said and took Eridanus's mask off to the sound of loud gasps from the crowd. A hundred and fifty pairs of eyes stared at Eridanus's face or, most likely, at his scar.

"Yes," Voldemort drawled smugly, "By the joke of Fate Lord Lestrange is also the Harry Potter, the so-called Savior of the Light!" It took them a minute of dumb silence for the implication to sink in and they broke into a deafening cheering. The Boy-Who-Lived turned out to be a dark wizard and a follower of their lord, he was responsible for his return. They were ecstatic. Eridanus watched them carefully, knowing all too well, that no matter how they behaved now, there still were some crazy fanatics out there who would love to strangle the Harry Potter. However, outwardly he looked composed and bored.

"As you can see, he is one of us," Voldemort continued and Eridanus pushed up his sleeve to demonstrate his mark to them, "And as the highest ranking lieutenant, he is your better, you are to follow his orders without any objections. Should they transpire, Lord Lestrange has the authority to punish you or even kill you, should he deem it necessary," Voldemort smirked haughtily and shot a quick glance at Eridanus, but the boy didn't even blink. Satisfied, the Dark Lord added, "Harry Potter will cease to be this august at the British Dueling Competition and the whole Britain would know that he is actually Lord Lestrange. Since Lord Lestrange is still studying at Hogwarts, he is incapable of leading the missions, but he would exclusively lead the attack at the World Cup." After that Eridanus returned to his position in the line and Voldemort proceeded with the trivial stuff, as giving out orders, organizing groups and appointing officers in command. Half an hour later they were dismissed and the death eaters spread out over the base to celebrate.

**xxx**

Eridanus slowly walked down the hall, holding his mask in his hands, somewhat overwhelmed with what had just happened. How could he make them all submit to him, a mere boy? He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I hope you are not having any second thoughts?" he heard Severus drawl on his left. He involuntarily smiled at his potions professor, glad to see him. Professor looked rested, spending his time away from noisy children. His onyx eyes were shining and his darkness felt pleased and calm.

"No, don't worry, professor. I am just thinking on how would I lead so many people, how would I make them listen to a teenager from Hogwarts," he smiled sheepishly and ducked his head. Severus considered his words for a moment, walking next to Eridanus.

"I believe this is a question of who would lead them. A teenager, as you say, or the Lord Lestrange? They would follow a strong and a confident man, no matter what his name or age is, although I, personally, think that you are a lord," he told Eridanus, boring his onyx eyes into boy's. The boy matured drastically, although he saw him at the school constantly, he noticed it only now. He looked like a seventh year student. He, just like his father and uncle and Severus himself, grew up very early, too early, due to the circumstances of his life. And now, when he had barely had a taste of normal life, the Dark Lord was throwing him right into the center of a hurricane, making him almost his second in command. The Inner Circle wasn't happy with the development but everyone stayed wisely silent. Lucius, in fact, was happy, he seemed to like Eridanus very much. Perhaps, he had some designs on the boy.

"Thank you, professor," Eridanus nodded gratefully at him. Severus sighed and looked away.

"Call me Severus in private," he drawled reluctantly.

He couldn't deny that he himself liked the boy very much. Eridanus was a very intelligent young man, a challenging person and, of course, very beautiful. No wonder the Dark Lord was so possessive of him, held him close. Then again, there was his blind faith into Eridanus, which could only mean that they were closer than it was possible to imagine, they shared secrets, blood, magic... Severus wondered if they have already shared a bed, though, he was certain that the Lestrange brothers wouldn't have let their lord do anything to their heir without his consent.

"Severus," Eridanus said softly and gave him a small gentle smile.

Severus couldn't help but fall into the trap. The boy was just like the Dark Lord - alluring, charming, attractive, powerful. In just a few years, probably, even less, he would be able to manipulate anybody, wrap people around his finger, play them like a puppeteer. Yes, he and Voldemort made a lovely pair. One thing Severus knew for sure was that as long as he stayed in Eridanus' good graces, the Dark Lord wouldn't kill him. Before Severus could ask Eridanus something about the Dueling Competition, he was interrupted by the Lestrange brothers.

"Eridanus, did you really think we would forget about your birthday?" Rodolphus asked, as they came closer, and draped his arm around his nephew's shoulder. At Eridanus' perplexed look he chuckled, "Don't tell me YOU forgot it's your birthday! You are just like Rabastan - impossible!"

"Come," Rabastan smiled at him and Severus, "Your present is waiting outside."

The four of them walked out into the dark courtyard, where a few bonfires were lit. The Inner Circle and most of the Middle Tier were gathered there, watching hungrily the group of muggles standing in the center, tied to each other, looking scared and lost. Voldemort walked around them with a predatory grin full of sharp teeth. Noticing Eridanus he barked out a laugh, "And here is our birthday boy! Eridanus, come closer, take a look at your lovely present," he pointed at the muggles, who flinched away from his hand, frightened he would do something to them again. Eridanus smirked. That was where Voldemort and the brothers went earlier today. He shook his head and stepped closer.

"My lord, I am flattered, you are most generous," he smiled and bowed before his master. Voldemort smirked at him and reached out to take his heavy plait into his bony hands. He tagged on it slightly, digging his long fingers into the thick copper tresses.

"You can torture and kill them all if you want. You can hunt them in the woods, of course, if you wish, but I would love to see you at work here, in front of everybody," he purred at the boy, watching him intently. Eridanus understood that his master wanted him to show the others that he wasn't a child but a vicious and a dangerous wizard, that he wasn't favoured by his lord for nothing. Eridanus smiled and bowed his head in agreement, "As you wish, my lord."

He then stepped closer to the muggles. Using legilimency he discovered that all of them were not some randomly chosen victims, no, Voldemort specifically chose those who abused children. There were three men, who beat and raped children in their own families, and two women, who worked at an orphanage and were responsible for the deaths of two small boys at their facility - one of those boys was magical. Eridanus felt fury rise in his chest. These vile pathetic creatures dared to raise their hands on their own, dared to abuse weak innocent children who were unable to defend themselves. He saw red. His face contorted in disgust and he grabbed one of the three men, "You will be first," he growled and pushed him harshly to the ground. The muggle started screaming and had the audacity to threaten the boy. Eridanus only laughed and pounced on him, taking a knife out.

"You don't deserve to be tortured with my precious magic," he spat in the red horrified face of the man underneath him and slashed the blade across the man's chest. The muggle cried and all the spectators stepped closer to have a better look. Eridanus held his left hand firmly on the man's throat, slowly increasing the pressure, while his right hand dug the knife deeper and deeper into his stomach with violent swift thrusts.

"Remember Peter? Yes, your little boy, your lovely boy, your sweet little Petite Pete," Eridanus hissed at him, looking him straight in the eyes, bringing forth the memories of how he raped and hurt his own son, "Are you enjoying this as you've enjoyed your little Pete?" He cut across his stomach and the man's insides fell out. The muggle's screams were unbearable, he screeched and struggled against the boy's body pinning him down, his face was turning purple from the lack of oxygen. When the blood poured out of his cut stomach and his mouth he went silent, choking and coughing, gripping Eridanus' robes with his hands helplessly.

Eridanus stood up and spitted on his, now, bleeding corpse. The wizards around him whispered between themselves, noting his aptitude at legilimency. Severus stood frowning. He understood the significance of Eridanus' show in front of the highest death eaters' ranks, but he couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut and look away sometimes. He knew what exactly must have happened to Eridanus to make him so violent and bloodthirsty. The Lestrangers watched the scene with content smiles on their faces. The reasons behind their heir's cruelty were painful for them to dwell on, yes, but they admired his viciousness and gruesomeness. He was a Lestrange after all, it was in his blood. Voldemort looked very very pleased. Eridanus did everything exactly the way it had to be done. He was perfect.

"Who's next?" Eridanus turned and grinned at the muggles. They all started screaming and begging for their lives. Cowards. He moved towards one of the women and grabbing her by the hair, dragged her closer to the pool of blood in the center of the courtyard. Throwing her next to the corpse, he took out his ash wand and, twirling it in his fingers, circled around her with a predatory smile on his face, that was smeared with the shed blood. She wailed at the sight and feel of blood underneath her and tried to stand but her shaking legs didn't obey her. Eridanus watched her coldly, considering what to do with the woman. Finally, he stopped moving and hovered over her, grabbing her by the jaw, painfully digging his fingernails into her soft skin.

"Do you have any idea what have you done, Suzy?" he asked her sweetly, imitating Bella's voice, "Do you, dear?" When Suzy shook her head fearfully, staring into his burning eyes that were so unnaturally bright it was hard to decipher a pupil from an orb, he snorted and shook his head, "Of course you don't. You let two children die, Suzy, you neglected them," he talked as if she was a child herself, "And what's worse, Suzy, one of those boys, Charlie, he was magical. You killed a wizard, Suzy, you committed a crime in our world and you must be punished," he purred the last words in her ear and pushed her back sharply. She fell on her back with a loud squeak and he straddled her before she could even move. She started wailing and begging for her life, but he tuned her out.

"Crucio!"

He increased the strength of the curse and she began thrashing under his body violently with an abnormal speed. Her cries seemed endless. Eridanus let himself go with the flow and rode up and down with the rhythm of her jerking body. She began bleeding and loosing her mind, although he was holding her under the curse for only two minutes. Canceling it he slapped her on the face a few times to make her come back to her senses. When she finally overcame the pain and assessed her surroundings, Eridanus bent down close to her, his nose almost touching with hers, and whispered, "This is for Charlie," and ripped her open with his knife down from chest to pelvis. Her cries of agony died out rather fast, as she choked to death on her own blood.

Panting, Eridanus pushed the strands of his hair from his sweated forehead and got off of her. Standing up he glanced at Voldemort. His lord looked very dangerous. The hunger in his eyes was murderous. If the man didn't come by the end of the show, he would surely ravish Eridanus and tear him into small pieces. Eridanus himself felt the pain of unsatisfied arousal. He needed more.

He tortured the second woman with the blood boiling curse, with the dementing curse, and finished her with a few cutting hexes. He then chose the fat one out of the two men that were left. He decided to demonstrate all the nastiest curses on him, making him vomit his own insides, burning his nerves with the fire underneath his skin, which caused his skin to turn into a crispy black scab, he then broke his bones and mended them, misplaced, which caused the man horrible pain. His hoarse screams caressed Eridanus' ears and he tried very hard not to stroke himself. The crowd of spectators was cheering him openly, suggesting curses and swearing at the muggles. Finally, only the one man was left. He stood in his place, frozen with horror, having already pissed himself. His eyes were blank. He was too frightened to acknowledge his situation. Eridanus shook his head and clicked his tongue in disapproval. Gently cupping the man's face with his both hands he looked him in the eyes.

"Andrew, do you hear me? Andrew, it's alright, it all is just a nightmare. You are dreaming, you would soon wake up and will find yourself in your bed next to your wife," he said soothingly. The muggle slowly blinked at him and focused on his face, "Yes, Andrew, look at me. It's alright now, you are dreaming, dear."

The man sobbed and, shaking, grabbed his robes, "Thank god, thank god!" he cried, "I thought it was real, I thought I was dead already, I thought... oh god, oh god, how do I wake up?" he looked at Eridanus pleadingly, his eyes full of hope.

"Let me show you," Eridanus said softly and squeezed the face tighter, digging his fingers into the sides of the man's skull. He attacked his mind bringing forth all the worst memories that Andrew had, all the horrors he committed, turning his crimes against him - putting him into his victim's places. Andrew, unable to stand, fell down on his knees and Eridanus also kneeled, to hold the muggle's eyes firmly on his. This was the most exhausting and difficult kind of torture. Eridanus had to relive all the memories along with his victim and his head was pounding terribly. When Andrew began screeching and praying for him to stop, to let him wake up, Eridanus put his own memories of killing and torturing into the muggle's mind, exaggerating the strength of emotions. Andrew began thrashing in his hands, screaming like mad. He vomited a few times but Eridanus paid it no heed. He kept pushing and pushing the most gruesome and horrible pictures into the man's mind, twisting and turning them, planting cruel illusions. He was so engrossed into his mind he didn't notice when he ruined it. A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He let go of Andrew's face and the man fell back, lifeless. Voldemort helped the boy to stand up. A soft whisper of his master into his ear, "Well done, my little one, well done. I am so proud of you," finished him. He came hard, groaning into his fist. Rabastan, who had been already standing next to them, helpfully enveloped him into a tight embrace and saved him from the embarrassment of coming in public. Eridanus finished his moans into his father's shoulder.

When he finally came to his senses and found the strength to turn around, he met the sight of the death eaters watching him with fear and awe in their eyes, shivering at the sight of his cold lifeless avada kedavra eyes, standing out against his pale face marred with crimson blood. Standing straight, he smiled at them weakly and addressed his lord, who watched him so intently it was painful, "Thank you, my lord, it was a marvelous gift," he stepped closer to Voldemort and kneeled, kissing the blooded hem of his robes.

"You pleased me, Eridanus," the man hissed, and his hoarse voice sent shivers down the boy's spine. He knew exactly where the hoarseness came from. He looked up and Voldemort smirked at him and, to the astonishment of the spectators, stroke his cheekbone gently with his long cold gingers.

"You performed a very difficult kind of legilimency, I can feel the pain that is tearing your mind. Would you like me to heal you?" he asked, raising the non-existent eyebrows. The crowd gasped. Never had their lord offered any of them help. "I would be honored, my lord," Eridanus smiled and felt the familiar wave of parsel-magic wash over him, making his head feel light and clear, almost weightless. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, leaning into the tender touch of his master.

**xxx**

Eridanus didn't remember what happened then. The next time he opened his eyes he was in his bed, well, technically, it was Voldemort's bed but he began to think of it as his as well, as theirs. He squinted at the bright light coming through the curtains and shut them with a flick of his wrist. Groaning he turned to his side and found himself face to face with his master. Voldemort, looking the human that he was, lay next to him, asleep. Rubbing his eyes, Eridanus sat up and looked himself over - there was no blood on his body. The house elves must have washed him. He sighed and fell back on the pillow. He slowly turned the memories of the night's events in his head. No, he couldn't remember what happened after Voldemort healed him. Perhaps his mind was so exhausted it blacked out under the healing spell. Yes, this was possible. Closing his eyes, Eridanus retreated into his mindscape and checked his shields - everything was in order, his mindscape was unscarred and preserved his sanity. He left and opened his eyes again to the sight of the familiar bedroom. Turning on his side again he lay very still, watching the face of his master. Voldemort looked so relaxed, so calm... Eridanus reached out and tucked the disheveled dark hair behind the ear. Voldemort stirred at the touch but didn't open his eyes. Eridanus smiled and continued watching, listening to the even steady breathing. He hadn't noticed the arm snaking around his waist and pulling him closer to Voldemort.

"It's too early, sleep," the man whispered and nuzzled into Eridanus' hair, pressing the boy to his chest. Smiling, Eridanus obediently closed his eyes and fell asleep again.

**xxx**

"It was an impressive show you put up yesterday," Voldemort said, obviously pleased.

He and Eridanus were walking in the forest. After they woke up, Voldemort threw him out of the bed, saying that he couldn't control himself. Eridanus, shocked, retreated to the shower. They met at breakfast, during which Rabastan and Rodolphus happily told him of everybody's reactions to his performance. Turned out he really fell unconscious after their lord healed him and Voldemort personally brought him into his, their bedroom, leaving him in the care of the house elves. They chatted a bit more and after the breakfast was over Eridanus offered Voldemort to take a walk around the grounds.

They walked in silence, close to each other, brushing lightly with their hands or thighs, until Voldemort spoke up.

"Though, the legilimency you performed went a little overboard, you are too young and inexperienced to lead such difficult and long attacks," he concluded, not looking at the boy. They stopped at the narrow brook in the small meadow.

"Thank you for healing me yesterday," Eridanus said modestly, looking down at his feet.

"Rabastan asked me," Voldemort replied simply, "Said you lost control and were in pain," he tried to sound uncaring but for the first time in his life he failed. And it angered him.

"We can't sleep together anymore, can we?" Eridanus suddenly asked, remembering the morning. However, he also remembered how Voldemort pulled him closer, even being half-asleep craving his company. Eridanus felt lost.

"What?" Voldemort barked, glaring at him not comprehending where did the question come from.

"After you... this morning... we won't be able, would we..." he mumbled helplessly and tagged on his braid uncertainly. He couldn't imagine sleeping alone anymore.

"Eri..." Voldemort looked lost all of a sudden. He too couldn't imagine sleeping alone anymore. Eridanus looked up at the nickname and saw how upset his master actually looked. It pained him.

"Tom," he enveloped him into a tight embrace, "Please, I can't do it anymore," he said softly and hid his face into the black robes in front of him.

"What do you mean?" Voldemort frowned but took the boy into his arms not even giving it a second thought. Their embraces became natural for him.

"I don't want to wait anymore. I want to be yours, completely," Eridanus looked up and met the blood red eyes, that watched his intently. Voldemort searched his face for a sign of doubt or uncertainty, but there was none. Eridanus was absolutely serious.

"Are you sure? You do realize what it means?" he felt his blood boiling in his veins. If his boy backed out now he wouldn't be able to control his further actions. It was enough he had to magically subdue himself yesterday from assaulting the unconscious form of Eridanus after his performance.

"Tom, I want you. I've given it a lot of thought. I want you. I need you. I can't wait anymore. I see how much you want to take me but restrain yourself. Don't torture yourself," he pressed harder against his master's body, still looking him straight into the eyes, "Please," he whispered. His sincerity made Voldemort feel lightheaded. His boy asked him, pleaded him to take him. He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. He couldn't do it right now, here, in the forest, could he?

"Eri," he whispered and pushed his forehead against Eridanus', their noses touched, "Would you beg for it?"

"Yes," Eridanus said firmly, "Anything, I would do anything."

"You are such a good boy," Voldemort breathed out and kissed him on the lips. They apparated away.

**xxx**

Eridanus found himself pushed against the wall in their bedroom. Tom's body was pressing hard against his, his hands were crossed over his head, his wrists held by Tom's strong hand. His other had was ripping Eridanus' shirt open, tearing off the endless buttons. Tom attacked his lips, biting, sucking them. His tongue forced its way in, and their kiss deepened. Eridanus moaned as the cool hand touched his hot bare chest and brushed against his nipples, and then again, and again, teasing him. He moaned louder into the kiss and leaned forward, but was pushed back and pinned even harder to the wall. Tom's hand slid down, tracing his ribs, stomach, pelvis... Eridanus groaned and broke the kiss to breathe when the cool fingers dove into his trousers and underwear and brushed against his cock. Panting, Tom attacked his neck, sucking hard on the soft skin. Eridanus moaned louder, as the hand in his trousers slowly stroke him. His eyes rolled back and he growled, spreading his thighs wider. Tom strokes became harsher, faster, his own hard arousal rubbed against the boy's thigh. Eridanus' lips found Tom's ear and he sucked on his earlobe, moaning and whispering, begging Tom to touch him more. Groaning, Tom pushed harder against Eridanus, kissing him again. He let go of his wrists to grab his hair instead. As soon as his hands were free, Eridanus began undressing Tom. He pulled on his trousers and ripped them open, but he came before he could even touch his lover. He screamed his name as Tom squeezed his cock painfully, helping him to come. Grabbing on his shirt Eridanus leaned closer, jerking in the overwhelming sensation of release. He gasped into Tom's shoulder, as his hair was tagged sharply. Looking up into hazy blood red eyes, he saw they were full of burning lust and unsatisfied desire.

"Circe, do it, Eridanus, do it," Tom growled out an order, breathing hard, his forehead shining with sweat.

Eridanus didn't know what to do but he decided to follow his instincts. He fell down on his knees in front of Tom and pulled his trousers and pants down, revealing the hard flesh standing up, begging for attention. He hesitantly touched it with his hands, stroking up and down the shaft. Groaning, Tom pressed his forehead against the wall, looking down at the boy. Eridanus looked him in the eyes, stroking gently, and saw a silent command being given. Uncertain if it was what Tom wanted, he leaned closer and touched the cock with the tip of his hot tongue. He licked the cock's head and heard Tom moan. Deciding he was doing just the right thing, he licked the shaft from the head to its base and up again. Tom pushed his body forward, urging Eridanus to make the contact even closer. Opening his mouth Eridanus carefully took in the head of the cock, sucking on it slightly. The taste of Tom's flesh was sweet and a little sour with sweat, but he paid it no mind. He sucked harder and Tom moaned louder, his breathing became harsher. Feeling his distress, Eridanus opened his mouth wider and took in half of the pulsing length, and began to move rhythmically, pushing it deeper into his throat and pulling it almost completely out. Tom's loud moans turned him on and he felt he was becoming hard again. He felt a hand grabbing his hair and pushing his head forward to deepen the cock further inside. Grabbing at Tom's swaying hips, Eridanus kept moving, sucking on the pulsing cock. He felt the bitter taste of precum on his tongue when Tom began thrusting into his mouth, almost making Eridanus gag. Pulling away he settled on sucking the head and stroking the shaft with his hand. He felt Tom tensing and when he heard the loud exclamation of his name, the cock jerked in his hand and the hot sperm shot out of it, filling his mouth. It tasted just like Tom's skin. Eridanus swallowed harshly and pulled the softening flesh out of his mouth, semen dripping from his lips. He looked up and smiled at Tom's enlightened blissful face.

Tom reached out with his hand and rubbed the droplets of his sperm off of Eridanus lips. The boy watched him intently, and Tom could see his eyes were laughing at him again. He bent down and grabbed on Eridanus to pull him up on his feet. When Eridanus was once again pulled into his arms and against his body, Tom kissed him on the still wet lips, finding his aftertaste on the boy's tongue.

"Tom," Eridanus breathed out when their lips parted, "Did you like it?" he looked at him hazily, but mirthfully. Tom shook his head, of course the brat knew just how much he liked it, he wanted him to say it out loud.

"Yessss," he hissed and kissed him again. Although inexperienced, Eridanus' touches were just so innocent, so gentle, so loving, it was impossible not to enjoy his blowjob. Hugging him tighter, Tom devoured his mouth, not willing to part. Only when he felt his head spinning at the lack of oxygen did he pull away. Eridanus inhaled harshly and threw his arms around his lover's neck.

"Eri," Tom whispered, caressing his face with his hand, "I want more, I can't stop now."

"Me too," Eridanus kissed him gently on the lips, on the cheek, on the nose, he proceeded to cover his face and neck with featherlight kisses as Tom stirred him to the bed.

He laid him down on the mattress, and banished his clothes with a flick of his wrist. Eridanus blushed a little at Tom's hungry eyes, that were taking in his nude form. The boy bit his lower lip and pulled him closer, making Tom straddle him. Banishing his own clothes Tom descended on him, pushing his thighs firmly against the boy's sides. Eridanus stroke his bare chest, his shoulders, his warm skin sent shivers down Tom's spine. He never enjoyed a simple touch so much before. Tom moved to lie next to Eridanus and stroke the boy's already hard cock. Eridanus arched his body and moaned in pleasure, looking at Tom with half-lidded eyes full of passion and need. Tom could come by simply looking at his boy lying naked and hard like this, in his, in their bed.

He moved over and pinned Eridanus down with his weight, rubbing their hard cocks against each other. Moaning loudly Eridanus spread his thighs wide to let Tom press as close as it was possible. Grabbing at one of the boy's thighs, Tom kissed him deeply, biting his tongue. Eridanus pulled away and, breathing hard, kissed Tom's jaw and his neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. Tom closed his eyes and moaned pleasantly, rocking their bodies, rubbing his cock against the boy's. Eridanus' hands found their way to Tom's buttocks and he squeezed the soft flesh hard, earning a low growl from his lover. Covering the boy's body with kisses, Tom slowly moved down. He bit on Eridanus nipple and felt the lithe body jerk underneath him, the thighs bucking up to meet him. Smiling, he sucked on the reddened flesh and heard Eridanus let out a long weak moan.

"Tom, please," he begged. Tom looked up and gave him a feral smile. Eridanus carded his fingers through the dark locks, pushing Tom's head lower, making him move down faster.

Smirking, Tom complied and moved to kiss the hard pulsing cock. That earned him a soft cry. Excited, Tom licked the shaft and the head, pushing down the body that bucked up again trying to get closer. Licking and sucking on the veined skin he reached the base of the cock and sucked hard on the balls, making Eridanus scream his name and tag him on the hair painfully. Tom hastily took the cook into his mouth and slid up and down the shaft a few times, reveling in the loud screams. This was just as good as torturing his little one, he thought. Pulling away he let go of the hard flesh and licked his own fingers, covering them with saliva generously. Looking up at Eridanus, he smiled at him cunningly, "You must relax, my little one," and at Eridanus' perplexed look, he pushed his index finger into the boy's anus.

Hearing a cry of surprise, Tom took the cock in his mouth again and sucking on it sightly, pushed his finger deeper inside. The boy tensed and the ring of muscles constricted around Tom's finger but he kept pushing. Eridanus moaned and stirred at the unusual burning sensation. Tom pushed the second finger in and Eridanus cried out again in a mixture of pain and pleasure as the head of his cock was bitten gently. Tom moved his fingers back and forth and added the third, taking the cock deeper in. Eridanus could only pull on his lover's hair in desperation and scream. The feeling of hot wet mouth around his cock was maddening, it was so wet, so pleasant, his mind was ready to black out as the head of his cock touched the back of his lover's throat. Tom thrusted his fingers deeper and deeper until he felt satisfied and pulled them out completely. Sucking on the cock for the last time, he left it to Eridanus' weak whimpers. Shifting, he put his own hard flesh against Eridanus' entrance and spreading some saliva over his cock, gently pushed its head inside the anus. Eridanus growled in pain and moved to pull away, but Tom grabbed his thighs and held him in his place.

"You must relax, Eridanus, or it will hurt," he growled back at him and pushed further.

Breathing harshly, Eridanus tried to calm himself down. The adrenaline rushing through his body didn't let him relax his muscles. He wanted it so badly he couldn't even think properly. Taking a few deep breaths he looked into Tom's blood red eyes and imagined them embracing each other, the peacefulness and bliss of their contact. It helped him to ease up his tension and he felt as Tom's cock pushed deeper inside of him. It was so strange to feel the foreign flesh inside, painfully stretching him, but it excited him at the same time. Determined, he spread his thighs wider and let the cock slide even deeper inside. Sqeezing his eyes at the pain and burning sensation he breathed evenly, fisting the bed covers in his hands. Tom pulled out and slowly thrusted in again. And again. He kept thrusting, gently at first, until he reached the prostate. Eridanus cried out his name, feeling the shift, feeling the burst of pleasure growing with every new thrust and, involuntarily, he began moving in time with Tom to deepen, strengthen the new magnificent sensation. Tom rolled his eyes back and hastened his thrusts. He bent down close to Eridanus, and growled into his ear, "You are so hot inside... so tight, my little...one," he almost barked out the last words, thrusting deeper and deeper, quicker and quicker, drunk on Eridanus' hoarse screams of his name. The boy's fingernails dug into the skin of his back, drawing blood, and Eridanus called out again. Breathing heavily he bit into his boy's neck, growling and moaning as his magic reached out for Eridanus', intensifying their pleasure. Eridanus couldn't stop screaming, he never felt so good before, he tried to pull closer to deepen the thrusts even more, to take Tom further inside of him, to his very core.

Flesh slapped loudly against flesh in the hotness of the sweating bodies, and as their darkness lashed out to bind them they both came hard, screaming simultaneously on the verge of their lungs. Eridanus clawed his fingers into Tom's skin painfully as his lover bit his neck too deep. With a heady notion of warmth and other's magic spreading all over his body, Eridanus fell back, exhausted, not seeing clearly, as if in a haze. He never thought such close physical contact could be so... magical. It was something he was sure he couldn't experience in any other way but with Tom. He sighed, sated, full with the hot sperm of his lover. He felt Tom's body jerking against his slightly, in an aftertaste of the orgasm. He felt Tom's hard hot breathing against his bleeding neck, the cool arms held him tightly, unwilling to let go. Eridanus buried his nose into the dark hair and found Tom's ear. "It was amazing," he whispered and kissed his lover on the top of his head.

Tom, finally having gathered his wits and strength, raised his head up to look at his boy. Eridanus looked happy, his face shone in delight and pleasure. And there was so much affection and... something else, he couldn't quite understand it, in those bright green avada kedavra eyes. Tom smiled, feeling completely befuddled. The sensation of pleasure that he experienced couldn't be compared to anything he felt before. Never had his magic ever reacted to another human being in such fashion, never had he touched other's magical core during sex, nor had anybody touched his - this was something he could not imagine to be possible. He didn't want to let go of Eridanus, didn't want to pull out of him, being with him in such position felt so right, so natural. He felt drunk, drugged, bewitched. And these eyes, these emotions showed in them... Tom shook his head. He never knew love, he despised it. Nobody could ever love him, and he couldn't love in return, for it was a weakness. But the way Eridanus looked at him, acted around him, it all screamed at his sixth sense that the boy loved him. Did Tom love him? He looked into the beautiful smiling face, felt hands caressing his sides, felt the hotness of the boys tight inside around his flesh. How had this all happened, how had he become human and ended up in bed with somebody he cared for, which was ridiculous, for the Dark Lord cared only for himself. Eridanus pulled him into a passionate kiss and he felt his mind clouding with the overwhelming sensation of happiness.

**xxx**

They didn't come out of the bedroom until the next morning, spending the rest of the day laid together in bed, pressed against each other. Voldemort found it most pleasing to hold the sleeping boy in his arms and watch him. He enjoyed Eridanus' discomfort when he woke up to the sore pain in his hide and complained loudly about it. The Dark Lord felt through their link just how elated and pleased his boy was, how comfortable he felt in his arms. He thought he didn't want to let go of him and thus they lay in bed, stroking, caressing each other, kissing and biting each other's lips. At night Voldemort took Eridanus again, attacking him suddenly and painfully, without any preparation. Eridanus found it to be just another, much more pleasing, way of torturing him and gave in to the sensation without a second thought. To feel his master inside of him was the most amazing experience he had ever had and could ever had in the future. Being ravished and bitten, he wondered hazily, jerking at the violent thrusts, how could he live without this before. His life seemed to divide into two completely different, foreign ones. The one before Voldemort, and the other one with him. Looking back, Eridanus concluded that that other life before this wasn't his at all. He existed only here and now, under the heavy body of his lord, master and lover, he belonged in this bed and solely to this red eyed man.

**xxx**

The week passed in a haze. During the days Eridanus dueled restlessly with Lestranges, Severus, who came to to the fortress to brew the necessary potions for the stock, and with Mulciber and Avery, who took it close to their hearts to prepare the young Lord Lestrange to win the Dueling Competition. During the nights Eridanus mastered his sexual skills with Voldemort, who had completely lost control and couldn't keep away from his boy. He would ravish him until they both were exhausted to death, and they would fall asleep in each other's embrace. Nobody knew, except Rabastan and Rodolphus, of course, who made it a habit to heal the hickeys on Eridanus's neck and glamour his swollen blooded lips in the mornings, making sure other death eaters wouldn't see those. Rabastan talked with his son about the development in his and Voldemort's relationship and had to admit that, despite his young age, Eridanus was indeed physically and mentally ready to have sex. Besides, his masochistic streak would have probably led him to some more extreme forms of pleasing himself, so, perhaps, it was better this way. When Eridanus asked him about the bonding, Rabastan explained, that the actual bonding with magic through the sexual act could transpire only between those who loved each other, whose darkness or light accepted and craved to unite with the other's. At his son's bewildered expression, Rabastan raised his eyebrows but otherwise wasn't that surprised. He suspected they did love each other, although both were ignorant of the knowledge and, perhaps, incapable of understanding just what exactly they felt. Seeing the pleased beautiful smile plastered on his lord's face every morning he came down to the base, Rabastan didn't really worry about his son, knowing too well just who exactly had the other wrapped around his finger. The Dark Lord would never admit it of course, but he was addicted to Eridanus, he gave himself up into slavery not really comprehending it. And Eridanus had him now, no Lestrange let go of what was his, Rabastan knew that very well. The thought made him smile viciously to himself. Yes, Voldemort was completely human now, enslaved by his own servant, forever entrapped by Eridanus love.

**xxx**

A few days before the World Cup Eridanus got his letter from Hogwarts with the list of the new books and supplies he needed to buy.

"I need to go to the Diagon Alley. Draco sent me a letter, he would be going tomorrow, so I would join him then," he said to Rabastan, Rodolphus and Voldemort, looking through the list. They were having breakfast along with most of the Inner Circle, and the dining room was filled with loud merry chatter.

"Would you like to come? Glamoured, of course?" he asked his father and uncle, but they only shook their heads.

"No, Eri, we wouldn't risk to be discovered just yet," Rodolphus replied, sipping on his tea, "Besides, we would join you at the World Cup and, surely, at the Dueling Competition," he smiled at his nephew mischievously. Rabastan only hummed in agreement.

"I will go with you," Voldemort said simply, shooting the boy a challenging look. Eridanus snorted.

"My lord, would you be looking like this, or like your snake persona? Or would you glamour yourself as Draco?" he laughed.

"Cheek," Voldemort drawled and wandlessly hexed the boy, making him fall from the chair to the great joy of the watching death eaters, "I would use the same glamour you saw me wearing back at the ministry."

"Oh," Eridanus climbed back and, wincing, sat as straight as his sore hide let him, earning a knowing smug look from his master, "Alright. But we are going to Fortesque's with Draco, you are not worming your way out of it. My lord." He buttered his eyelashes at Voldemort and was hexed once again to now open laughter of everybody present.

It was strange and refreshing to walk side by side with Voldemort in public. People stared at him and his scar, pointing their fingers and trying to get closer, but the sight of Lucius and Draco Malfoy walking next to him scared everybody off. The Dark Lord looked amused by the whole situation. He once again looked like an ordinary, aged wizard, with long brown hair and bright teal eyes. Walking close to Eridanus, he kept his hand on the boy's shoulder, which unnerved Draco greatly, not to mention the fact that he was shopping with the Dark Lord of all people. Lucius simply looked smug. They have already shopped at the apothecary, at Madame Malkin's and now were heading for the book shop. Eridanus and Draco were chatting non-stop on their way, while Voldemort and Lucius discreetly whispered between themselves, seeking out the Order members and high ranking ministry employees in the crowd.

At Flourish & Blott's Eridanus' luck used itself up as he came face to face with a Weasley, with Ginny of all the redheads. Groaning softly he tried to pretend he never saw her, but Draco's nudge on his elbow told him he failed.

"Harry!" he heard her cry. She sounded happy, as if he hadn't told her off back at the school. Perhaps, she was too dumb to realize he actually meant what he said?

"Hi, Ginny," he said quietly, glaring at the girl to keep it low, since people began to turn their heads to see the source of noise. He surveyed the shop, dreading to meet the other members of the redheaded family.

"How have you been, I haven't seen you for ages!" she began blubbering, "I want you to know I'm not mad at you for what you said, I am willing to give you a second chance," he leaned closer to his face, looking at him pleadingly. Eridanus felt a hand squeeze his shoulder painfully. Voldemort swore in his head and Eridanus knew, if he wouldn't get rid of her now, she was dead.

"Mm, I don't think this would work between us, Ginny," he began uncertainly, irritated by Draco's snickers somewhere behind him, "There are many things you do not know about me and when you do, you wouldn't be so eager to seek my company," he shrugged apologetically still hearing Voldemort's gruesome threats in his head. The man was unbearable in his jealousy.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she gave him a perplexed look.

"Come to the Dueling Competition at the end of the month and you would find out," he cut short and turned away, following Draco to the counter. He didn't listen to her calling his name again and again. Finished, they left for the Fortesque's.

Voldemort watched with slight disgust on his face, as both Draco and Eridanus enthusiastically ate their huge, tall portions of ice-cream.

"Want to try some?" Eridanus smirked at his master and got a glare in return. Lucius, watching the scene, smiled and shook his head, laughing softly, while Draco gulped and tried to become invisible. However, Eridanus didn't cower.

_"You know, it is very tasty, don't you?"_ he settled on antagonizing Voldemort through their mind link.

_"You just can't live a day without me torturing you, can you?"_ he heard a smug drawl.

_"Nope, but I insist you try this, it is most delicious,"_ he licked the spoon seductively and wriggled his eyebrows at Voldemort who sat with a blank look on his face, though his eyes promised pain, a lot of it_. _

_"What if I told you that every time I taste it I think about you, your taste,"_ Eridanus tilted his head to the side and buttered his eyelashes at his master. He found it to be most pleasing to annoy Voldemort and hit on him in the most inconvenient time when the man couldn't simply take him or punish him.

Voldemort growled audibly which made Draco jerk in fear. Lucius was watching them in amusement, feeling that he was missing something.

"You are in for it, you are dead," Voldemort hissed menacingly aloud, trying to subdue his growing arousal.

"The hell did you do?" Draco whispered to Eridanus, staring at him wildly. Eridanus shrugged his shoulders and smiled into his glass of ice-cream. He sensed Voldemort's distress through their link and felt very smug about it.

**xxx**

They turned to the Knockturne Alley and parted with Malfoys, who had a meeting at the Shadow Inn. Eridanus and Voldemort went to Borgin & Burke's. Eridanus told his master how he found a parsel book in the shop and they were curious to look for more of the rare tomes. Walking past the dusty bookshelves, Eridanus looked around, staring at all the unusual and seemingly harmless objects sold in the shop. He noticed Voldemort looking intently at the man behind the counter. At Eridanus' inquiring glance he pursed his lips.

_"Mr Burke. I used to work for that bastard after I graduated,"_ he sneered in disdain.

_"You worked here?"_ Eridanus was surprised. Who would have thought, really.

_"Yes, I was hunting for the heirlooms to turn into horcruxes later, this place was perfect for my needs at that time,"_ Voldemort hissed and moved forward, to read the writings on the spines. Eridanus sighed, realizing that the conversation was finished. He turned to look at the books as well.

After fifteen minutes of thorough search they found two books written in parseltongue. One, looking like an ordinary tattered cheap book, was actually a guide to parsel-healing. Voldemort pushed it into Eridanus' hands, "This one would be useful with your talents." The second book was thick, cladded in leather, a thick layer of dust and dirt glued its pages together. Voldemort found it lying in the back of one of the shelves, unnoticed. It was written on the subject of the connection of parsel magic and elemental magic, something Eridanus was very interested in. The Dark Lord looked at the tome with awe clearly evident in his eyes. Even for him it was a rare fortune to find something as ancient and priceless as this. Taking both books, Eridanus brought them to the counter. Seeing the incomprehensible signs on both covers, Mr Burke narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"You again!" he recognized the hair and the scar, "Mr Potter, I find it very suspicious that you keep coming here, buying the parseltongue literature," he drawled, with a vicious smirk on his face. He probably thought he could blackmail the Savior, Eridanus mused.

"Do you see any problem in that, Mr Burke?" Voldemort asked softly. At Burke's gobsmacked expression, Eridanus turned to look at his master and saw that the man dropped his glamour.

"T-Tom R-Ridd-le?" Burke stammered out, squeezing himself into the wall behind him, staring at Voldemort, as if he had seen a ghost.

"Glad you managed to keep your memory intact," Voldemort drawled, "Now, would you mind selling the books to the young man?" he raised an eyebrow, glaring at the old clerk. Burke gulped and hastily began wrapping the books with shaking hands.

Curious, Eridanus peeked into his mind. The last time Burke saw Tom was in 1948, when he sent the young man to bargain with the old witch Hepziba Smith. The next time Burke heard about his employee was two days later when aurors came to inquire about what deals had his shop had with the woman in the past. They told the old man the witch was killed by her own house elf and some of her possessions were missing. Hearing that, Burke immediately put the two and two together. He knew Tom killed her and disappeared with the heirlooms Burke planned to buy from her. Angry, the old man hoped he would never meet the wretched wizard again. However, years later, he saw Tom again, only he was called Lord Voldemort then and was torturing an auror at the Diagon Alley, while his death eaters fought the arriving reinforcements. Burke, trying to escape the battle, accidentally stumbled upon the Dark Lord. Since then he had been living in constant fear for his life until 1981 when Tom was vanquished. And now he did actually meet a ghost, a ghost of somebody he thought he knew so many, many years ago, somebody he thought he would never ever meet again.

Eridanus took the books and threw the golden coins on the counter. Burke only squeaked and ran off into the back of the shop. Voldemort glamoured himself again and the two of them left, apparating right from the alley and into the study.

The next two days were spent in planning the attack at the World Cup championship. Eridanus was trembling in anticipation of his first real death eater mission.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, torture, violence, murder, underage sex, M/M slash._

_A/N: I would love to thank you all for your wonderful reviews, they mean so much to me!_

_This chapter is overloaded with the mushy stuff, beware! I'm sorry, I get carried away so easily. I know there is too much sex in my story, so please don't read if you don't like that. I apologize and thank you for your attention._

* * *

Monday morning met the spectators of the World Cup with low grey clouds and a strong, cold wind. People hastily dashed about the camp, shivering and pulling their cloaks tighter. Nobody paid any heed to the cries of the ministry employees, who were running around and tried to make wizards dress like muggles, since their camp was out in the open and could have been easily spotted. The bustle went on and hadn't finished until the very start of the match. Cold and tired, the people quickly occupied the tribunes and the stadium got instantly filled with a loud noise of their chatter.

Eridanus slowly walked up the stairs to the v.i.p. lodge, followed by his father and uncle, both polyjuiced to look like Sirius and Remus. Eridanus took their hair a long time ago, thinking he might need them one day. And right he was. They found their seats in the last row and took their places. Rodolphus, who was impersonating Sirius, was grinning like mad, looking around excitedly. Rabastan, who was impersonating Remus, was calm and composed and was wearing a mask of boredom and indifference on his face. A few minutes later the two of them heard Eridanus groaning and swearing under his breath. Turning to see what caused his distress, they saw the four Weasleys climbing the stairs and entering their lodge. Spotting Eridanus, the three male redheads waved at him enthusiastically, only Ron didn't - he glared at the boy hatefully and mattered profanities in his direction and got a slap on the head from one of the twins for that. Raising his eyebrows, Rabastan looked at Eridanus questionably, but his son only shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eridanus looked at the twins and smiled when they mouthed "sorry" at him.

Fred got up and hesitantly stepped closer to them and pushed a letter into his hands, eyeing Sirius worriedly and greeting his DADA professor. Lestranges only smiled at him. Smiling back, encouraged, Fred winked at Eridanus and went back to his seat. When Rodolphus asked his nephew what was that about, Eridanus quietly told the brothers about the twin's experiments he was sponsoring and that the letter included the description of everything they've done so far and what else they were working on. His uncle laughed and praised him for his quick wit. Rabastan added that, if the twins would prove reliable and loyal to him after he revealed his true identity, he should introduce them to their lord, since their inventions could prove useful to their cause in the upcoming war. Eridanus agreed, he had already thought about that as well.

Soon the Malfoys arrived and sat in the row between the Lestranges and the Weasleys. Both Lucius and Draco exchanged a sneer of disgust with Eridanus, noticing the redheads, but otherwise kept their mouths shut. Draco turned in his seat to chat with Eridanus, and they talked for a long time, not noticing as the time quickly went by. Soon, minister Fudge brought the bulgarian minister into the lodge and everyone stood up exchanging introductions. Hearing the Harry Potter name, Fudge all but melted and tried to stir the boy away to talk to him about his election campaign but Rodolphus, skillfully playing the role of the offended and angry lord Black, barked at the man to leave his godson alone before the boy found himself behind the Azkaban bars for nothing.

When everybody finally sat down and were chatting calmly between themselves, Eridanus noticed that the two Bartemius Crouch's seats were empty, only a house elf sat on one of them, nervously eyeing the people around her. Confused, he leaned closer and let his darkness reach out. He instantly felt the dark aura around the seemingly empty chair. Shifting, he leaned close to his father and whispered into his ear. Looking surprised, Rabastan glanced at the empty seats before them and exchanging a look with his son, nodded. Eridanus turned to Rodolphus and told him the same thing. Also surprised, Rodolphus gave the two Lestranges a pointed look. The three of them nodded between themselves, not saying a word. As soon as the game began and everybody got distracted with the action, Rabastan took out his wand and immobilized the invisible figure on one of the chairs. The house elf turned to look at him, fear evident in her big pleading eyes, but Eridanus gave her a conspiratorial smile and pressed a finger against his lips, signing for her to keep quiet. He and Rabastan loudly informed Rodolphus they were going to find some drinks and, as soon as nobody was looking at them, left the lodge, levitating the invisible stranger behind them.

They reached the exit unnoticed and soon stood in the middle of the camp, hidden between the tall tents. Rabastan put the invisible stranger down and Eridanus casted 'finite incantetem' and the two Lestranges found themselves staring at the thin form of a fair haired young man, whose eyes were rolling around madly.

"Barty?" Rabastan gasped, "But you died in prison!" he kneeled beside the shocked and confused wizard.

"Barty as for Barty Crouch Jr?" Eridanus confirmed. Rodolphus told him about the young son of the ex-head of the DMLE, convicted and thrown into Azkaban by his own father, he said the boy died and he saw his lifeless body being dragged out of the cell. Well, it seemed that Voldemort wasn't the only one to fancy resurrecting all of a sudden.

"Who the hell are you?" Barty rasped when Rabastan nodded affirmatively and canceled the spell on the wizard's body.

"Barty, it's me, Rabastan, I am under the polyjuice," but Barty looked unconvinced. He turned to Eridanus.

"You look like Rabastan, only you're much younger," he frowned and shook his head in bewilderment. Eridanus kneeled next to him and took his face into his hands.

"Look at me, I will help you," he said and entered Barty's mind. Finding what he was looking for, he gently let go of him. "Barty, we are both death eaters," he rolled his sleeve up and showed the wizard his mark, "Our lord is back, he is alive and well, we are on a mission here. Do you understand me?"

Barty nodded vehemently, his eyes instantly gained focus and gleamed brightly, when he heard that his lord was alive. Satisfied, Eridanus continued, "Barty, you are not well, you can't stay here, we will take you to our lord and he would take care of you," he said slowly, looking the wizard straight in the eyes. Barty nodded again. The poor man spent the last few years under the imperious curse his own father put on him. He took Barty out of the prison, and his dying mother took his place instead, polyjuiced to look like her son. However, Crouch Sr didn't save his son because he was the loving philanthropist, but because he thought he would be able to submit his rebellious son to his will, make a light wizard out of the dark one. Only the small innocent house elf cared about Barty and helped him escape. His story was truly sad, and the prolonged exposure to the imperius took its tall on his mental health. He needed a long rest and a thorough therapy.

Rabastan took him tightly by the arm and, giving his son a pointed look, apparated the two of them away. Eridanus stood up and, after checking his surroundings, quickly went back to the lodge and his seat. The house elf disappeared. When another loud roar of the fans filled the stadium, he leaned on his uncle and whispered into his ear. Rodolphus looked gobsmacked at the news of Barty's survival but only nodded. They went on watching the game as if nothing had happened. Five minutes later Rabastan came back. Nobody noticed anything.

**xxx**

When the game finished it was already dark, only a thin red line of the setting sun lingered on the horizon. The happy, excited wizards and witches filled the camp, loudly discussing the match, the players and the teams. It was dinner time and everybody gathered outside of their tents to cook on the open fire. When the first stars appeared in the dark blue sky, the camp got enveloped into a thin mist, the merrily cracking bonfires made it look yellow and eerie. Everybody ate and chattered, a few groups even sang. Harmony and peace prevailed. Eridanus stood behind the trees of the forest right behind the camp, watching the ignorant magic folk enjoy their evening. Behind him stood fifty death eaters, all masked, their wands at ready. He turned to look at them, his face blank, his eyes cold and uncaring.

"We are moving out in two minutes. Beedey, you take twenty men and enter the camp from the east, Cubberbloom, you take other twenty and enter from the west, others are going with me, we will be blocking the way to the forest. Does everybody know what they have to do?" he watched them impassively. At their curt nods he hummed and turned back to the sight of the camp, "We are attacking only the muggleborns, their tents are marked with green runes. No prisoners, no survivors." Looking to his left he met two pairs of the vibrant blue eyes of the Lestrange brothers, hidden behind the golden masks. They didn't move, didn't say anything - it wasn't necessary, Eridanus understood them very well. Determined, he put his own golden mask on and raised his hand up in the air. He heard death eaters spread around, forming three group. As soon as they were finished, he lowered his arm in a harsh quick motion, slashing through the air. Immediately, the left and right flanks apparated to their assigned positions. Eridanus moved forward, leading the remaining death eaters. His father and uncle walked by his sides. Nobody made a sound, moving swiftly and quietly.

The Hell broke loose as soon as they entered the camp. The curses went flying and in a moment the tents caught on fire from Eridanus' 'incendio'. Taken by surprise, people started screaming and tried to get away. The death eaters calmly walked through the camp, looking for the marked tents. Lestranges got into dueling with the few ministry employees that were present, but, of course, their opponents had no chances against them. Eridanus watched out of the corner of his eye as the crying, frightened crowd ran into the forest, but he paid them no mind. Most of the muggleborns and their families were located and taken into the death eaters' care. He slowly walked past the burning tents, looking around carefully, when he came face to face with the Weasleys. The four of them were helping an older couple to get away. Ron noticed him and started shouting, pointing at the black masked figure in front of him, staring with wide terrified eyes. Eridanus tilted his head to the side. He didn't want to kill a pureblood wizard, it was counterproductive to their cause, but his hands were itching to make the annoying redhead scream. Smirking, he drew his wand and pointed it at the weasel. Arthur stepped forward and took a dueling stance looking at him warningly, his face grave and pale. Eridanus only laughed when a stunner was sent his way. Easily deflecting it with a flick of his wrist, he sent a few cutting hexes that made the four redheads run for their lives. Disappointed, he sent a curse at Ron's back, that hit its victim accurately.

Smiling, Eridanus proceeded further into the camp, looking for a muggle to torture. The sight of the black silhouettes of death eaters standing out against the blazing fire was impressive, the air itself felt thick and heavy with the smell of fear and death. They were ruthless, wild, like beasts that were held captive and starved for years only to be released into the crowd of defenseless sheep. Their elated cries of pleasure mixed with hoarse screams of their victims caressed Eridanus' ears. He took a deep blissful breath, savoring the copper flavor of the hot air around him. No survivors. It felt like a part of him went numb, letting out the monster that was hiding inside of him. Though, it wasn't right to think it to be some separate entity, no, it was him, just his other, uneven side, that lived in the eternal darkness and showed itself only when he had no use for the remains of his humanity.

Eridanus steeped closer to a muggleborn wizard, whose leg was severely burnt - he hid behind the trunks trying to heal his limb but his hands and voice trembled too much for the spell to work properly. He waved his wand again and again, growling in desperation. Eridanus shook his head and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"You would never heal it this way," he chided the wizard, who froze and paled at the sight of his menacing appearance, his voice was deeper and louder behind the mask, "Let me show you how it is properly done," Eridanus smiled and waved his wand.

The 'diffindo' spell sliced precisely through the flesh and in a second the wizard's leg was dissected from his body, drawing blood out of the cut and a sharp cry of pain out of his throat. He dropped his wand and grabbed on the maimed limb, wailing and sniveling, his eyes wide in shock and disbelief. Eridanus crouched next to him, twirling his ash wand in his hands playfully, watching the wizard curiously. Such a pathetic specimen, a petty parody, really. Salazar was right. The man kept wriggling and screeching on the ground and Eridanus watched him blankly, thinking what should he do with him. Shrugging, he crucioed him and then simply hit him with a blasting curse, making his ribcage crack and rip the muscles and tissues, breaking his chest open. Not sparing the choking, slowly dying wizard another glance, Eridanus stood up and walked away to check on the others.

He approached a small group of death eaters who surrounded a muggle family, watching as one of them tortured the adults into insanity. Stepping closer, Eridanus saw a small boy around nine years old, coiled on the ground, crying in pain as one of the death eaters was holding him under the blood boiling curse. He frowned at the sight but decided to dismiss the issue. However, his darkness tagged on him to turn back and take a closer look. The child had a weak magical aura. Eridanus grabbed the death eater on the arm.

"Stop! It's a wizard!" he hissed. But the death eater shook him off.

"So what? He is a mudblood!" the man spat into his face. Furious, Eridanus tore his golden mask off of his face and glared at him.

"I said leave him, these mudbloods must be raised in our world and turned to our cause, you can't go around killing every one of them, they are useful! He is just a child, he can be moulded into whatever we want," he barked out, his beautiful face contorted in anger.

"Why would I listen to some whelp?" the death eater sneered at him from behind his white mask. Eridanus saw red. Grabbing the man by the throat, and tearing his mask off in the process, he threw him down on the ground and pushed his wand against his cheek, digging it painfully into the skin.

"Our lord told you I am your better, you would listen to me if you want to see the next day," he spat venomously and crucioed him.

The skin under his wand turned purple and the web of blackening nerves appeared and spread all over the face, drawing insane screams out of the man's throat. The nerves of his brain were burning. The others stepped back, watching their leader in fear. The young beautiful boy with bright green eyes and a long copper plait over his shoulder looked so innocent, however, right now his face was as hard and scary as one of their lord. When the death under his wand lost consciousness, Eridanus stood up and glared at them.

"We are not killing magical children," he hissed. Everybody took one more step back. Only Rabastan came closer and put his hand on his son's shoulder. Looking up at him, Eridanus nodded and took a long calming breath. Rabastan squeezed his shoulder a little and let go of him. He then turned to the crying boy and obliviated him and put him under the sleeping spell. Satisfied, Eridanus put his mask back on and strode away. He was still angry that the idiot dared to disobey his orders. Fuming, he blew up the tents that were in his way.

When, about twenty minutes later, they were finished and the first aurors began arriving to the camp, Eridanus called all the death eaters and, when they formed a big group in the middle of a burnt down ground, he stepped forward. Drawing his wand and pointing it high into the sky, he waved it in a complex pattern and roared, "MORSMORDRE!". A black mist leaked out of the tip of his wand and lazily soared up, moving in a wide spiral, clouding and forming itself into an almost solid mass. As soon as the Dark Mark appeared over the scene of their crime, all the death eaters simultaneously rolled up their sleeves and, touching their marks with their wands, apparated away.

**xxx**

Eridanus lay on the bed, absentmindedly stroking the hard scales of purring Cypreus. The snake followed him out of the hall after he reported to Voldemort about the success of their mission. All the death eaters apparated into the fortress and their officers were to give their lord detailed mission accounts. He and Rodolphus were called forward and were the first ones to talk, or rather show. Both, being masters of occlumency, simply let Voldemort look into their minds and see their memories of what happened. He dismissed them afterwards without a word, turning to interrogate the officers. After Eridanus ensured his father and uncle that he was absolutely fine and didn't need anything but a good bath and rest, the brothers reluctantly let him be, going to the infirmary to check on Barty. Eridanus dragged himself into the bedroom and fell on the soft mattress, too tired to go to the bathroom. Thus, he lay, pinned down by Cypreus' weight, caressing the snake. He abstracted his mind from the events at the Cup, meditating and putting his thoughts and emotions in order. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. It was only his first mission, how many more would be there in the future? He should control his temper, it wouldn't do good to cripple the death eaters every time they dared to speak up. It was his rotten luck that the man he tortured wasn't of a higher rank and didn't die; the healer said he would even stay sane, but he had a long way to the complete recovery. Lulled by his musings, Eridanus fell into a light slumber.

Eridanus woke up to the touch of a cool hand on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw Voldemort sitting next to him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and caressing his skin ever so slightly. His master had already took off his fighting robe and high boots. When he noticed that Eridanus woke up, he gave him a small secret smile.

"Awaken then?" his blood red eyes watched the boy carefully, searching for something.

"My lord," Eridanus whispered and shifted closer to him, coiling around him.

"You need a bath, little one, you smell of burning," Voldemort murmured and gently carded his fingers through the copper hair. Eridanus leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, enjoying the contact.

"I'm too tired," he sighed. Voldemort smirked and bent down to take him into his arms. He picked the boy up and brought him into the bathroom.

**xxx**

Standing on his feet, Eridanus looked around sleepily and tried to take his shirt off, but Voldemort pulled his hands away and took it off by himself instead. He kissed his boy on the forehead and stroke his naked shoulders. Eridanus leaned closer to his master and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, enjoying the hands that were caressing his sides, slowly moving down to the small of his back. Kissing him on the top of his head, Voldemort reached for his trousers and pulled them down along with the underwear. Naked and suddenly cold, Eridanus pressed against his master's body and embraced him tightly. He heard a soft laugh and another kiss was placed on his temple. Voldemort stirred him to the bath and helped him get in. It was full with hot milky white water. Eridanus sat down and, shivering, hugged himself, trying to overcome freezing and sleepiness.

Suddenly, he felt a firm chest being pressed against his back and thin thighs placed around his. Long strong arms embraced him from behind and pulled him back. His head fell onto Voldemort's shoulder and he closed his eyes in pleasure. Having a bath together with his lover was a new experience to him. Familiar hands were rubbing on his chest, sides, stomach and pelvis, as the cool lips caressed his ear, slightly sucking on the earlobe. Sighing contentedly Eridanus put his own hands on Voldemort's thighs and stroke them gently. He turned his head and kissed the man on the neck, sucking on the soft skin, drawing a low moan out of his lover's throat.

"You did so well today, my little one," Voldemort whispered, pressing the boy's body harder against his with his hand, sliding the other lower to the pelvis, "I am so proud of you, you are a true leader, my precious," he caught Eridanus' lips into a rough demanding kiss, reaching for his cock and stroking it gently, making the boy moan into his mouth. "But you need to control that temper of yours," he pulled away, looking into the green eyes intently, grabbing on the hardening flesh. Eridanus tensed and moaned louder.

"Yes, I am sorry..." he breathed out, squeezing Voldemort's thighs as his cock was stroked faster, "Tom!" he cried as his master squeezed it painfully.

"It will pass, you are young and patience comes with age and experience," Voldemort murmured, looking into his eyes hungrily, stroking him faster and harsher.

His boy couldn't stop moaning and wriggling under his hands. His own cock was already hard and was pressed painfully between his and Eridanus' bodies. He growled and plunged his teeth into the boy's shoulder. Crying out, Eridanus jerked violently and came into his master's hand. Breathing harshly, he shifted, rubbing his back against Voldemort's hard arousal, but it wasn't enough. Voldemort turned him around and grabbing on Eridanus' buttocks pulled him up. Straddling his lover, Eridanus pressed himself against the firm chest, circled his arms around his lord's neck. He felt the head of a cock being pushed into his anus and his body being pulled down to take it deeper in. Screaming, he arched his back as the thick length stretched his inside and pushed further. Panting and trying to spread his thighs as widely as possible, Eridanus threw his head back and cried out Tom's name. The cock slid fully inside, finally reaching his prostrate and Voldemort bit his neck, groaning loudly, squeezing his soft buttocks. Eridanus' head was spinning, he felt so full inside of him, so hot, he begged Tom to help him. The strong hands pushed him up sharply, and then quickly pulled him down, thrusting the cock painfully in. Screaming, Eridanus grabbed on his lover's shoulders, supporting himself, as he pushed up and slid down the length by himself. Adjusting to the pain he began moving faster, making the thrusts deeper and harsher. Voldemort moaned into his neck and his hands pushed the boy's buttocks apart for a deeper penetration. Eridanus felt so tight around his cock, so good...

"Eri..." he moaned pleadingly as the boy hastened his pace and the thrusts became violent. He felt he was coming undone to the deafening screams of his name. "Eri!" he growled impatiently and almost desperately. Hearing Voldemort beg, Eridanus lost himself in the overpowering sensation of their magics' unity and came hard, calling out Tom's name again and again and jerking violently. As the boy's muscles constricted around his cock, Voldemort pushed harder with his last thrust and came painfully and pleasantly at the same time, growling Eridanus' name into the boy's shoulder. Their bodies were trembling and convulsing against each other in a hard prolonged release, as they pulled closer, enveloped in a tight embrace, panting harshly.

"Eri," Voldemort moaned into the kiss, as Eridanus' hot wet tongue pushed deep into his mouth, caressing the inside, teasing his tongue playfully. His boy was driving him insane again.

**xxx**

When the water went cold and their skin felt too soaked, Voldemort reluctantly pulled out of Eridanus and took him to bed. They lay naked, close to each other, and Voldemort was watching his little one's beautiful face. Eridanus closed his eyes, knowing very well that he was being watched - he enjoyed the feeling of his master's hard gaze, it felt as if he was touching him. Voldemort's arm circled his waist and pulled him closer.

"I wish I could stand by your side in a battle," he murmured at the cool chest he was pressed against. He put his arm on his master's hip, caressing the soft buttock with his hand.

"Soon, my little one," Voldemort whispered, burying his nose into the tangled copper hair, "You would always stand by me," he sighed contentedly.

Eridanus placed a kiss on his neck and sucked on his collarbone slightly. His boy was so affectionate, so eager for a touch, a kiss, he couldn't believe he was able to give so much and crave to give more, he never wanted to give anything to anybody. Voldemort pulled him up, to kiss him on the lips. He knew he lost control since they had sex for the very first time, but he didn't really try to regain it. He couldn't stop dreaming of taking the boy every minute of the day, of ravishing him, touching him, being touched and sucked by him, kissing him, kissing and kissing... Kissing Eridanus was just so satisfying, so pleasant, so magical. They parted to breathe and he once again looked at the beautiful blissfuly smiling face. Smiling only for him, kissed only by him.

"The Dueling Competition is in two days only," he whispered against the red lips, making them part expectantly, "I will be there, to watch you duel and reveal your true name," he licked them with the tip of his tongue teasingly. Eridanus opened his eyes and gave him a surprised look.

"You would really be there?" he breathed out excitedly.

Instead of giving the answer Voldemort smiled at him warmly and mirthfully, as he rarely did, saving such sincere smiles for special occasions, knowing all too well just how much Eridanus loved them. And, as he predicted, the boy's face lit up and he smiled widely, his eyes shining bright, burning with affection and love. Oh how Voldemort craved this look. Eridanus kissed him soundly on the smiling lips, on the cheeks, on the nose, he cupped his face with his warm hands and covered it with featherlight kisses - something Voldemort enjoyed immensely. Reveling in the caress he closed his eyes and hummed pleasantly. If only this could last forever... They kissed some more and, embracing each other tightly, finally fell asleep.

**xxx**

The next day Eridanus went back to Grimmauld's to meet up with Sirius and Remus, who came back from their vacation to accompany him to the Dueling Competition. As promised, they brought a mountain of exotic gifts and fruits and Eridanus spent the whole day and a part of the next one eating and listening to their stories. They both tanned and looked healthy and happy. He couldn't help but smile at them, glad they were able to have some good rest. Some time later, when they were comfortably seated, or rather spread over the sofas in the drawing room with the evening tea, Remus, damn his werewolf senses, discreetly noted that Eridanus smelt of another male and was clearly sexually active. Sirius eyebrows shot up at that, almost reaching his hairline. He stared at his godson in disbelief, trying very hard to convince himself that the boy wasn't sleeping with that particular person he was thinking about. Seeing Eridanus' blushed face and averted eyes he groaned desperately and hid his face in his hands. This was too much.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he wailed, looking at the boy helplessly.

"Is it really... the Dark Lord?" Remus asked quietly, nervously. Eridanus sighed heavily and sat up, determined to get this over with once and for all.

"Yes, I'm fucking Voldemort, I am very happy about this and I love him," he blurted out and stopped abruptly, as his own words sank in.

He stared at the two gobsmacked men, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. He had just said that aloud, hadn't he? He admitted he loved Tom. Was it true? Did he really love him? But, he thought, he didn't want to take these words back, even if he did he couldn't. This was it. He loved Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, his master, his friend, his lover. Eridanus hugged himself, afraid his burning chest would explode and his heart would break. It beat rapidly, madly, pounding in his ears. He loved, he was able to love. He suddenly felt very hot and drunk.

"Eri? Eri, are you alright?" Sirius was kneeling in front of him, Remus stood hovering a little behind him, both watching him worriedly. Coming out of his stupor, Eridanus looked at them hazily, smiling like mad.

"I love him," he whispered, "I really love him."

"Eri, you are too young to be serious about this, you can't know for sure," Sirius hastily said, trying to make the boy see reason, but inside he felt cold. How was it possible? What did that monster do to him? Had he enslaved Eri? Had he tortured him into blind submission? Gave him a love potion?

"Eri, please, you must seriously consider this," Remus added softly, looking frightened and lost.

"But I had, I had considered this already, many many times," Eridanus looked at them confidently, coldly even, "I am certain I love him. What I feel towards him is indescribable, unique and overwhelming. No spell, no curse can do that, I am sure. I... I feel as if I never existed before now, now when I am with him," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. He longed to see Tom again, to touch him, to kiss him. His heart ached at the thought that they were apart, so far away from each other.

"Eri, you are in danger, he isn't capable of love, he's playing you," Sirius whispered fearfully, his eyes wide and wet.

"No, you're wrong," his godson smiled at him, "He is capable of feeling love and I hope he does love me."

"Oh, Eri," Sirius enveloped Eridanus in a tight embrace, stroking his hair sadly. How could he save him from the destruction that this... obsession would bring him?

"It's fine, Siri, if you get to know him better, you would see his other side. He is human, very human sometimes. He wouldn't hurt me, I promise," Eridanus sighed softly and pulled away to look into the grey grieving eyes of his godfather. Remus put his hands on their shoulders, not really knowing what he could say. There wasn't much he could do either.

**xxx**

The next day Eridanus and, still upset and sad, Sirius and Remus arrived at Oxford, where this year's competition was to be held. He quickly found the Lestrange brothers in the crowd, tracing their auras. They didn't glamour themselves that much, simply changed their hair colour to blond and gave their features a softer look. They greeted the two other men respectfully and the five of them moved forward, elbowing their way through the huge crowd. They reached the administration table and Eridanus signed up for participation under his own name and Sirius signed the form as his legal guardian. After each man wished him luck and hugged him tightly, Eridanus waved them off and went into the tent to the loud screams of the people who recognized his face and scar. Rabastan followed him to the entrance, ready to curse anybody who would dare to even talk to his son. Eridanus needed to concentrate now and these idlers would surely distract him from his main task. The four men stayed near the tent for a while but then, reluctantly, left to find seats in the first row. The Dueling Competition was being held on the grounds of an old ruined castle. The remains of its ancient foundation were used as the dueling platforms, since the place was previously turned into the Dueling Club. The wooden tribunes surrounding one of the platforms formed a square around it, being placed rather close to it, since the dueling space was usually warded to prevent spells and curses from hitting the spectators. The competition promised to be a long and boring affair, since many wizards and witches would be fighting each other during the day. There were roughly 60 of them on the list.

Rodolphus shooed a few children away from the seats in the first row and beckoned his companions to seat down. Remus noticed there was another seat saved between the brothers but decided it would be wiser not to ask. When the first pair of duelers went up the platform to be announced, a tall brown haired wizard appeared next to their row and silently sat between the Lestranges. Had Remus not recognized the scent he would have never guessed who this man was, so ordinary he looked. But the scent was just the same one he found on Eridanus, which meant that this man was the Dark Lord himself. Remus stared at him in bewilderment. He knew the man was wearing a glamour but, nevertheless, he looked and acted normally, harmlessly. Remembering the day Voldemort came to Grimmauld's to collect Eridanus, Remus had to admit that he was completely sane and normal then as well. And he held the boy gently, warmly and tightly as those who miss their loved ones do. He shook his head. All this didn't mean the man was innocent and posed no threat to Eridanus.

The duelers were announced. They bowed to each other and took their stances. The fight was short and rather pathetic. As were the next twelve. Most pairs used only light or neutral spells and disarmed each other easily, due to their own incompetence. Rodolphus growled desperately and at the Sirius inquiring glance he whispered, "Eri's going to be disappointed. There is no challenge for him, I could never imagine the aptitude would fall so low," he shook his head sadly. Voldemort humphed in agreement, his face was sour as if he had eaten a lemon. Rodolphus was right, there wasn't any challenge for his little one. Finally, the thirteenth pair performance was somewhat interesting, they held on longer and used more advanced spells. Sirius recognized them as the aurors who were a few years behind him in the training. The next three pairs were also more advanced. "Did they start pairing up by the level of power instead of the age?" Rabastan asked his brother, who only shrugged his shoulders. Twelve years ago everything was different, and the participants were paired up in their age ranges, until only the strongest were left and dueled against each other until the one of them won by count. Now it seemed like they used a magic-sensitive wizard, much like Eridanus, or some magical device or even a potion to find out the participant's magical power. They could only guess.

The last duels were quite impressive and were held between the older wizards and witches, and often included strong offensive curses, even the dark ones. Both Sirius and Remus were surprised to discover during the one of the last duels, that Severus Snape was participating as well. He easily won his fight, having sent only a few simple curses and his traditional 'expelliarmus' at the end. Lestranges, though, were not surprised in the least - they knew that Severus would duel and they secretly hoped he would duel Eridanus in the final round, since he was the only one who could actually stand against the boy.

Finally, the very last pair appeared on the platform. Eridanus and his opponent, who turned out to be Alastor Moody. All four men tensed, knowing too well just how dangerous Moody was. Retired auror, he was famous for hunting down the dark wizards, for his ruthlessness and cruelty. He was the one who put most of the death eaters behind bars, he was the one who arrested the Lestranges. While Rabastan surrendered easily, Rodolphus and Bella fought viciously and killed two aurors. Moody lost his eye that night, courtesy of Rodolphus' precisely aimed cutting hex. Moody would surely go after the Lestrange's scion in an attempt to have his revenge. Only Voldemort wasn't worried, in fact, he was excited. He himself dueled Moody back in the days, he cursed his foot with a dark parsel curse that made his flesh rot and its venom was slowly poisoning his organism - there was no cure, since nobody else spoke parseltongue and Moody simply amputated half of his leg before the curse could spread higher. The Dark Lord was curious to see how the old man was doing nowadays and how his Eridanus would bury him into the stone platform, knowing that he was responsible for his family's imprisonment. Oh, and he knew, he knew, Voldemort had just told him through their link. It was evident as Eridanus turned to glare at the one-eyed wizard hatefully. Oh yes, Voldemort anticipated his boy's temper to show.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our last competitors in the first round!" the announcer shouted, "Mr Alastor Moody, the legend of the auror division!" he waved his hand at the wizard. Rodolphus growled lowly at that, cursing under his breath. "And his opponent, Mr..." the short wizard was reading their names from the list and had to stop, to take a closer look at the name. Shocked, he stammered, "Lord? Er-eridan-n-nus Le-lest... Lord Eridanus Lestrange!" he finally blurted out and waved his shaking hand at the copper haired boy.

The tribunes went silent in shock. The were cheering loudly, since the rumor had spread around that Harry Potter himself was participating and soon everybody knew what exactly did he look like. But when he was announced as the lord of a very dark family everybody went numb, unable to speak, shocked to the core. There was no mistake, the copper haired boy with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead was the Harry Potter, but why had he used such a name? Moody tensed up and finally looked at the boy whom he was ignoring completely just before that. The tall thin teenager was the carbon copy of the blasted dark wizard who took his eye in the fight and almost killed him in the process. This whelp, who was supposed to be the son of his favourite student James Potter, was actually a scion of the darkest family in the whole country! He couldn't believe what he saw.

"I... I'm sorry Mr-mr P-potter but why, why are you signed under such... atrocious name?" the announcer sputtered, looking at Eridanus in horror and disbelief.

"Because it is my real name," Eridanus said simply, "I am not Harry Potter, I am Eridanus Lestrange, you can check the ministry's records, Harry Potter doesn't exist," he drawled and looked around, smirking at the shocked faces of the hundreds of wizards and witches who were watching him.

"B-but how?" the short wizard looked gobsmacked.

"Ask Albus Dumbledore," Eridanus shrugged uncaringly, "He was the one who told me Harry Potter was my name, I found out I am a Lestrange this summer," he smiled innocently.

"But-but," the man couldn't find any words. The crowd roared, some people were shouting he wasn't Harry Potter, he was a fraud, some were certain he took the name to simply trick them, others were calling for the administration to stop the competition at once. Eridanus sighed and waved his hand at the man impatiently.

"I have every right to compete, so why don't we start already? I came here to duel, not to indulge everybody's hunger for rumors," he spat and glared at the announcer. Nodding fearfully, the man stumbled back and crawled away from the platform. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Eridanus turned and gave Moody an expectant look. The ex-auror glared at him and they bowed, watching each other intently.

They took the stances and immediately sent offensive curses at each other. Moody deflected, Eridanus dodged. Moody was using dark curses easily, adamant to get to the boy as fast as possible. But Eridanus wasn't impressed. He mostly used neutral and basic dark curses and strong shields, skillfully fighting the ex-auror off not letting him get any closer or touch him with a spell even once, and finally turned to transfiguration. He turned Moody's wooden leg into a snake and covered his magical eye with an invisible blinder, transfigured out of the man's own sweat. Moody fell down, having lost his balance, and was trying to get rid of the serpent. Eridanus sent the usual 'expelliarmus' and Moody's wand escaped his grip as soon as he managed to banish the reptile. Shocked, he stared at the boy who hadn't even sent a cutting hex or a blaster or a stunner at him once.

"Mr Lestrange wins! Now we will have a little break and in fifteen minutes we will begin our second round!" the announcer exclaimed in a trembling voice, eyeing Eridanus warily. But the boy paid him no heed. He bowed mockingly to the ex-auror and left the platform, confidently striding to the tent.

Inside he was met by Sirius, Remus and Mr Malfoy, who smiled at him encouragingly. And two aurors and the Minister Fudge himself, who was present at the competition.

"Mr Potter, care to explain?" the small fat sweating minister stared at him expectantly.

"Minister Fudge," Eridanus bowed to him, "There is nothing to explain, as I said, I have recently discovered I was never a Potter. This summer my godfather Sirius Black and I went to Gringotts to look for the will of my parents regarding the property they left me, for we were looking for a summer house, and what we read in the will we found was astonishing: my mother wrote what my real name is and who my father is, and that she appointed Sirius as my godfather, as the godfather of the Lestrange heir. Dumbledore never told me there was a will in the first place, and my godfather wasn't present at the reading of it, so we both were ignorant of my true parentage. The only person who knew is Albus Dumbledore, my supposed magical guardian, who chose to keep me in the dark," he lied smoothly, just like they planned. He knew for a fact that the will was never read and Dumbledore never knew of its contents, since he knew beforehand that Sirius was his only appointed godfather and he himself was his magical guardian by default, since he was the one who hid his family under the Fidelius charm. And Dumbledore did try to get his hands on the will this summer, he had probably had some suspicions, but couldn't read it, Eridanus hid it in the frozen Potter's vault right from the start.

"This is the most astonishing news, Mr P-... Lestrange," Fudge coughed nervously, tagging on his collar, "This is going to be a scandal of the decade!" he exclaimed and looked around, hoping to hear a useful advice.

"I don't see any problem for the ministry, Mr Fudge," Sirius stepped forward, "There is no Harry Potter in the records, we checked, there is only Eridanus Lestrange. You are not to blame for this drastic mistake, Dumbledore is. He tricked everyone, he should be sued for fraud. Why would he pass my godson off as the son of James Potter and, most importantly, use the Potter's vault for his own needs during the years, that the supposed Harry Potter spent at the orphanage, being underfed, abused and poor as a mouse?" he hissed angrily at the minister.

"Don't forget he also forged Mr Lestrange's records at Hogwarts," Malfoy piped in, "The Board of Governors would hear about this, no doubt, and would deal with Dumbledore," he gave Fudge a pointed look. He told Voldemort and Lestranges that Fudge hated Dumbledore and wanted to get rid of the man just as much as the Dark Lord himself did, so Malfoy was to play on his heart's desire and give the man necessary hints. Fudge's eyes lit up at the prospect of bringing Dumbledore down. Who would have thought that the old headmaster had the nerve to forge the boy's identity?

"Should we alert the press?" he asked Malfoy uncertainly.

"Of course, and I would gladly help to give just the right information for the article," the blonde smiled at Fudge and gave Eridanus a laughing glance, "I suppose you wouldn't object, Eridanus?"

"Of course not, Mr Malfoy, I trust you with this completely," Eridanus smiled back. Sirius nodded as well and Malfoy left, leading Fudge out on the arm, telling him just how much they would spoil Dumbledore's life. The aurors eyed Eridanus suspiciously but had to hastily leave under Sirius' furious glare. They knew he used to be an auror himself and nobody dared to antagonize the man who spent ten years at Azkaban and came out alive.

"Well, that went well," Eridanus said to Sirius, Remus and Voldemort, who was listening in through their mind link.

"Yes, only now Moody would be hunting you down like mad," Sirius shook his head, "He was my teacher, Eri, the man had always been a little crazy, but after so many years and all the curses he had to endure, I have no doubts he is completely insane now. He is a paranoid and a maniac," he told Eridanus. Remus, who stood beside him, nodded vehemently. He himself almost fell victim of the man's madness. Once, Moody discovered he was a werewolf and tried to kill him with the silver knife - Sirius was the one who saved him, by stunning his teacher and persuading the man that Remus was his friend and was completely harmless. However, Remus simply avoided him since then, so there was no guarantee that Moody wouldn't try to skin him again.

"Let him do just that," Eridanus spat disdainfully, "I will take his other eye out and cut off his other leg. We'll see how he would be hunting then," he growled and left the tent, as the start of the second round was announced.

**xxx**

Voldemort was a little disappointed that Moody left unscarred, however, he understood that Eridanus tried to act as innocent as it was possible in his situation. Besides, turning the wooden leg into a snake was rather funny, he thought, and quite humiliating for the ex-auror, since he should have recognized the simple school transfiguration and invert it easily. Instead he banished his own prosthetic leg and had to be taken away on the stretcher. Voldemort also heard Eridanus' threat in the tent and smiled viciously to himself, knowing all too well that his boy would do just that, should Moody cross his path again, and the old idiot surely would. He told Lestranges that everything went well, just like they planned and Lucius was on his way to make up the article for the newspaper. By the time Sirius and Remus returned to their seats, the second round began.

All the wizards and witches who won in the first round, and that was around 30 people, had to duel between each other, to cast off the half of them again. Both Severus and Eridanus easily sent their opponents down to the ground with their wands flying out of their hands. Soon there was only twelve of them left and after a small break the third round began. An hour later six men were left, and then only four. Eridanus transfigured his opponent's hands into the stone and took his wand, and Severus bombarded his and the man simply threw his wand at him unable to draw a shield. Thus, only two of them were left. The crowd roared. The two dark wizards of worst reputations were to duel against each other - people craved blood, shouting profanities at them at the same time, demanding the two of them were arrested and interrogated.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the final duel that would define the new British Dueling Competition's champion! Hogwarts' professor Severus Snape vs Lord Lestrange ex-Harry Potter!" the announcer practically screamed, tired and nervous. It was already evening, and only the torches around the perimeter of the tribunes lit the place, giving the duel an eerie, dangerous atmosphere. Eridanus and Severus came closer to each other and bowed. The onyx eyes watched him intently, however, Eridanus saw mirth and excitement in them. He smiled at his professor, excited himself to duel somebody challenging. They dueled together back at the fortress, but never won or lost to each other, coming out even all the time. They stepped back and drew their wands. Rodolphus and Rabastan both leaned closer, almost jumping from the edge of their seats. Sirius and Remus watched Snape warily, however, the smug unkind smile that appeared on Voldemort's face told them that, perhaps, they should worry not only for Eri but for Snivellus as well.

"Stupefy," Severus fired first, although lazily, knowing that the boy would dodge. He needed time to decide how exactly he could make Eridanus fall. The boy wouldn't use parsel-magic, but he still was as apt at transfiguration, as Severus himself was and that made them equal. Eridanus was a very difficult opponent, since he knew Severus' style of fighting and could probably predict his scheme. Severus settled on wordless casting, counting on that the boy would't show off just how powerful he was in front of the crowd, it would only antagonize them more.

"Reducto, Rictusempra, Pependi," Eridanus calmly shot the three spells one by one. Severus deflected the blasting curse, dodged the tickling charm and barely moved out of the way of the gravity pull curse. Smiling to himself he threw 'bombarda' at the boy, and drew up a shield when a few cutting hexes were sent back at him. They danced around each other, trying very hard to restrain themselves from using the darker, illegal curses. Despite professor's wordless casting Eridanus managed to stay unscarred. Severus even tried to hit Eridanus with 'expelliarmus' when the boy was distracted by deflecting the sharp spears that were thrown at him, but, unlike his other opponents, Eridanus knew his trick very well and simply fell down on the ground to dodge both the spears and the spell. Lying down he called 'avis impetus' and sent out the flock of birds, that viciously attacked professor trying to claw his eyes out. While Severus was getting rid of them, Eridanus stood up and waved his wand in a complex pattern - the birds transformed into a lion.

The crowd was ecstatic, as were the Lestranges. This was a very difficult kind of transfiguration and the beast couldn't be simply banished and no magical shield deflected the physical attack. Shocked, Severus hastily pulled himself together and thought fast. Eridanus, seeing his uncertainty, nudged the lion to get closer to the man. The huge cat growled menacingly and crawled forward. The potions master threw 'reducto' at it, but Eridanus shielded the lion, smiling viciously at his professor. Severus narrowed his eyes at the boy - just what was the brat plotting? Determined, he canceled the shield and threw several cutting hexes at Eridanus to distract him and then sent his own spell 'sectumsempra' at the launching lion. But the lion, though severely injured, jumped at him again and while he tried to push it away with a spell, Eridanus came closer and hit him with 'expelliarmus'. Severus' wasn't fast enough and his 'finite' didn't reach the spell in time. His wand was pulled out of his hands and fell into the boy's open palm. Smiling, Eridanus vanished the lion and bowed to his professor. Severus rolled his eyes at the boy and stepped closer to snatch his wand out of Eridanus' hands.

"Brat, you used my trick against me," he snarled but not unkindly. True, he was disappointed he was tricked so easily, however, he liked Eridanus too much to hold a grudge against him, he did want the boy to win after all, he deserved it. "And a lion? Really, Eridanus, playing on my dislike towards gryffindor house was rather childish."

"Sorry, professor, couldn't resist the temptation," Eridanus leaned closer and smiled at him charmingly. Severus bit the inside of his cheek trying not to look into those green hypnotizing eyes. It wouldn't do to be killed by a jealous Dark Lord. And the said Dark Lord was indeed jealous. He felt proud and smug that Eridanus managed to trick the ever cunning and intelligent Severus with such a harmless transfiguration and take him down by his own favourite spell. However, the way Eridanus looked at him and how close he stood to the potions master made Voldemort's blood boil. He clenched his fists and slowly rose from his seat, determined to get the boy away and hide him in their bedroom until the 1st of september.

"Lord Lestrange is our new Dueling Champion!" the announcer exclaimed and hastily shoved the medal into Eridanus hands and ran away, afraid to come into any other kind of contact with the dark wizard. Leastranges, Sirius and Remus met with both Eridanus and Severus at the tent. The press tried to take a picture of the new champion-new lord of the darkest house in britain-ex-savior of the wizarding world, but the aurors pushed them back. The group made its way into the tent.

"Well, Sni- Severus," Sirius smiled at the scowling professor, "That was very entertaining. Especially the lion," he mocked, as they entered.

"Now, Sirius, Severus fought impeccably, just like he always does," Rodolphus piped in, "Besides, Eri did use a childish trick, he simply took Severus by surprise. I admit I was surprised as well," he patted the potions master on the shoulder.

"I appreciate your condolences, Rodi," Severus sneered at him, however, his eyes were smiling, "But, please, spare me," he rolled his eyes to everybody's loud laughter. Eridanus stepped closer, untangling himself out of his father's tight proud embrace, still a little blushed after the praise.

"Severus was the only real dueler at this competition, and he duels masterfully, so leave him alone, I am honored I beat him," he smiled at his professor and Severus couldn't help but smiled back at him. Eridanus patted him on the arm, laughing softly. He felt elated after the duel and ecstatic to find himself in such a warm company of people who all liked him and appreciated him - something he never dreamed he would have. Suddenly, he felt the familiar darkness and turned, to see his master, still glamoured, enter the tent and look at him pointedly, if not angrily. Eridanus didn't understand what had he done to anger his lord. Voldemort came closer and, taking him by the arm, pressed the boy against his body. When Eridanus, involuntarily, embraced him, as he always did when they were so close, Voldemort turned to look at Sirius.

"Black, I'm taking Eridanus with me, he would return on the 1st of september, early morning," he said in a commanding tone, daring anybody to say anything against it.

"Eri?" Sirius looked at his godson uncertainly. He didn't want to let the boy go away again, they haven't seen each other much and that conversation of the previous day still tormented him. He was afraid for Eridanus.

"Don't worry, Siri, I will come in the morning of the 1st," Eridanus smiled at his godfather warmly, pressing harder against his lover's chest. Surely, he wanted to spend the last days with Voldemort, why would he even object to his master's perfect plan.

"A-alright then," Sirius sighed and frowned at the Dark Lord, who simply arched an eyebrow at him and looked away. Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Severus and pursed his lips into a tight line. Severus flinched at the sight, knowing all too well what kind of message was sent his way. Satisfied, Voldemort nodded to the Lestrange brothers and apparated away with his boy in his arms. The four men were left alone in silence. Rabastan shook hands with both Sirius and Remus and once again assured them that Eridanus would be fine. With that he vanished into the thin air.

Smiling knowingly at Severus, Rodolphus patted him on the shoulder again, "Just don't get killed, alright, Sev?" he whispered to his school friend, "I know Eri is an alluring prize any of us men would love to have to themselves but, alas, our lord was the first one to claim him, so you would have to enjoy him from afar," he smirked at the sneering potions master and, waving to the other two men, apparated away.

"What was that, Snivellus?" Sirius asked incredulously. Remus only coughed into his fist, avoiding looking at the two.

"Nothing that concerns you, mutt," Severus replied haughtily and vanished. Sirius gave Remus an inquiring look but the werewolf shook his head and pulled his friend to apparate to the Grimmauld's.

**xxx**

Eridanus found himself in their bedroom. Looking up at Voldemort, who was still holding him in his arms, he saw that the man had already canceled the glamours. Smiling at the familiar beautiful face, Eridanus reached out with his hand to touch it, but Voldemort caught his hand and, squeezing it hard, pushed it away.

"What's wrong?" Eridanus frowned, feeling that anger through their link again. Just what had he done wrong?

Voldemort didn't answer. His hands found their way around Eridanus' neck and squeezed it tight, slowly increasing the pressure. Choking, Eridanus gave him a confused look, struggling to breathe, but never moved to get away. Voldemort kept pressing, looking into the bright green eyes, loosing himself in them, he enjoyed the feeling of the tensed flesh under his touch. Licking his lips at the sight of the boy's flushed face and parted red lips he bent down and kissed them, taking the remaining air away, leaving Eridanus completely breathless. His boy fisted his hands into his robes but didn't falter, deepening their kiss instead. Aroused, Voldemort bit harder into his mouth, drawing a weak moan out of the constricted throat. Pulling away, he, reluctantly, let go of the neck and Eridanus inhaled harshly, coughing at the sharpness of the air against his aching throat and lungs.

"What have I done wrong?" he managed to croak, when a hand grabbed his hair and tagged on them painfully to move his head up and Voldemort's teeth plunged into the soft sensitive skin of his neck, marking it.

"You belong to me, my little one," he heard a low growl, "You are mine, I would not tolerate you batting your eyelashes at anybody else," the growl turned into a menacing hiss and his neck was bitten hard again. Jerking, Eridanus moaned and pulled closer to his master's body. What was he talking about? Severus? Eridanus never even thought of being closer to Severus than he already was. They were friends, Severus was his teacher. The man was attractive, true, and Eridanus did like him very much and valued his life... He stared at the wall incredulously. Was Voldemort jealous? Of Severus? Eridanus smiled, feeling very pleased with himself.

"Are you jealous of Severus?" he whispered mockingly. Voldemort straightened and looked at him through the narrowed eyes, suspicion, anger, possessiveness clearly written in them. Eridanus gave him a soft charming smile and caressed his face with his hands, gently tracing the curves. "I know that I belong to you... But do you love me?" he asked tentatively and bit his lower lip uncertainly, his smile suddenly gone. Voldemort, stunned, blinked at him incomprehensibly.

"What?" he barked, feeling lost and, suddenly, very uncomfortable and... nervous?

"I love you, do you love me? I know I can't demand of you to feel anything towards me, I understand if you don't-" Eridanus blurted out but was cut off by the gobsmacked looking Voldemort.

"What did you say?" he asked, looking at his boy as if he saw him for the first time in his life. He did wonder if Eridanus loved him but never thought the boy would actually say it aloud... No, he never really hoped he was truly loved, because hope was a weakness and he had no use for hope in his life and his cause.

"I said I love you, Tom," Eridanus looked at him with wide wet eyes, he felt suddenly frightened. He was scared that Tom would reject him, would threw him out and never look at him again. He knew love was a weakness and Tom despised the weak.

"How can you tell... how can you tell you love me?" Voldemort asked quietly. Occlumency wasn't helping at all, he felt like his chest was ready to blow up, so hard it was burning inside, and all his emotions were clouding his mind, making his head spin. His heart beat like mad, slowly rising into his throat it seemed. He never felt like this before.

"I..." Eridanus looked at him uncertainly, but gathered his courage and, leaning closer to Voldemort, looked him straight in the eyes to show the truth of his words, "I can't live without you. I feel like my life had begun only when I met you, when I joined you. I found my first friend in you, and found that I cared about you more, than I ever cared about myself. I lose my breath every time I see you, when I hear your voice. I... I feel human when I am with you, and it burns here," he touched Voldemort's chest, "It burns like fire, it feels like my heart is going to burst out, it aches so pleasantly every time we touch, kiss, talk. I... I don't know the right words to describe it, I always thought myself to be incapable of feeling this..." he faltered and closed his eyes trying very hard not to cry. He didn't cry, but his eyes were full of tears, caused by his bloody emotions. The lump in his sore throat hurt him and drew only more tears.

"Why are you crying?" Voldemort didn't hear his own voice, so loud his blood was pounding in his ears. He reached out and caught a single tear that ran down Eridanus' cheek. He never saw the boy cry, except when tortured, but those tears were inevitable, a simple nerve reaction to the pain. Yet this lonely tear felt so strange on his fingers.

"Because it fucking hurts!" Eridanus bit out, angry at himself for being so weak, "Because I feel like dying now!" he opened his eyes and more tears poured out. "I am pathetic and worthless, forgive me," he whispered desperately and hid his wet face in his master's robe.

And it did hurt, thought Voldemort, as he enveloped the boy into a tight embrace and pressed him harder against his body. It hurt him as well. What Eridanus described was exactly what he felt towards him. He felt human only with his little one, he cared only about his boy, he couldn't live a day without him he felt so restless and lost and... lonely. Attachment. He was attached to Eridanus, he fell into the trap he had always skillfully avoided because he never had anybody worthy to care for. He was always alone and content with it. Now he was lonely when his boy was away, now he hated being alone, sleeping alone in his bed that felt so cold without Eridanus' warm body in it. So this was love? This burning pain in the chest, this unbearable longing to hold and to be held, to kiss and to be kissed, this maddening loneliness in the empty bedroom, numb with the absence of laughter, moans and screams. He sighed heavily and buried his nose in the soft copper hair. Inhaling the sweet scent he placed a kiss on the hair and took Eridanus by the chin and pushed his head up. His blood red eyes met the avada kedavra green ones, shining brightly with tears and incomprehensible mix of emotions. Voldemort kissed the boy gently on the lips, on the wet cheeks, kissing the salty tears away.

"I am a cruel, possessive, heartless man," he murmured against the soft skin, covering it with featherlight kisses, "I never knew love and I wish I never would," he felt Eridanus tremble in his embrace, the boy's hands grabbing on his robes, "But I... you have changed me, Eri. Healed. I feel too much, it is hard to deal with. Though it shows I do have a heart," he smiled weakly and pressed his forehead against the boy's.

"I can't be sure, I feel... confused but I think... I love you," he whispered unevenly, almost inaudibly. But Eridanus heard him and his heart did burst into a thousand blooded pieces. He caught his breath and felt his throat constrict worse than when Voldemort was strangling him. Feeling as if he lost his mind he attacked his lover's lips and pulled him into a passionate, violent kiss, drawing blood and moaning loudly into his mouth. Voldemort readily answered, overwhelmed with his own emotions and growled into the kiss, struggling to deepen it, pushing his tongue further inside. How he craved this, how he needed this, his darkness begged for it, lashing out and dissolving into Eridanus' binding them together, depriving them of their self-control. Love, if this was love, was a perfect drug.

"Say it again," he heard Eridanus breathe out when they parted for air, their lips blooded and swollen.

"I love you," he found it easy to admit this the second time, even pleasant. The words tickled on his senses, sending shivers down his spine. "I love you, Eri."

"Oh, Tom, I love you," Eridanus moaned meekly and all but melted in Voldemort's arms, his body felt suddenly too weak to stand. Voldemort stirred him to bed and put him down gently, kissing his wet lips that were whispering his name. Eridanus pulled him closer, tearing off the buttons on his robe, he pushed his warm hands inside and touched his cool chest, making him shiver again. He felt the boy's thighs pushing against his sides, begging him to press harder. Growling, Voldemort banished all of their clothes in one flick and pushed his arousal against Eridanus' entrance, grabbing onto his thighs and spreading them wider. Eridanus scratched on his back and moaned into their kiss, tensing.

"You are mine, love, forever mine," Voldemort hissed, pulling away from the boy's mouth, and placed the head of his hardening cock into the tight anus, pushing it in with his hand to Eridanus' loud whimpers. "I love you, my little one, I love you so much I want to hurt you," he pushed harder and Eridanus screamed, throwing his head back and grabbing on his master's shoulders, as the hard thick flesh slid fully in, stretching him painfully.

Voldemort moaned in pleasure, rolling his eyes back, reveling in the tightness and hotness of his boy's inside. He pulled out harshly, almost completely, and violently thrusted back in. The screams caressed his ears driving him insane, intensifying his desire. He began thrusting quickly, harshly, holding Eridanus' legs spread widely, pressed against the boy's chest. He bit into the boy's mouth, muffling the screams, thrusting his tongue inside in the rhythm with his cock. Eridanus' body wriggled underneath him, his hands were tagging on his hair painfully - it turned him on even more. Voldemort moved his hand to take the boy by the throat. Squeezing it, he continued their kiss, moving all the while, trying to penetrate deeper. Eridanus felt like he was going to black out. His eyes couldn't see anymore, his mind was clouded with the insane pleasure of his prostate and magic being touched, ravished. The pain had only sharpened his sensitivity, intensifying every thrust, burning on his nerves. He thought Tom would tear him apart, so hard and fast he moved inside of him. His mouth went numb with pain, unable to hold on against Tom's violent attack. He couldn't breathe as his throat was constricted under the hard strong hand. Only his own desire and painfully pulsing cock prevented him from fainting. Feeling his growing weakness, Voldemort let go of his throat, and grabbed on his hard flesh instead, squeezing it. His thrusts were so fast now, Eridanus had to grip on the sheets to steady himself, to hold on to the pace. He found strength to scream again and came hard, calling out Tom's name, his hot sperm spread all over his chest. Moaning at the sight, Voldemort bent down to lick it and, with the last thrust, came as well, jerking inside of Eridanus, filling him with his semen. Eridanus' body convulsed violently, as their magic burnt their blood, intensifying release. He cried out, breathing harshly, grabbing blindly on Voldemort's wet hair. His lord was panting loudly against his skin, his chest rising high and fast. Voldemort felt so good, so sated, complete, his body, still tensed, burnt with magic surging through his veins. He whimpered against Eridanus' wet chest, licking on his sperm. The perfect drug, the perfect drug.

"Eri," he breathed out, "Eri, I love you," he moved to look at his boy, whose sweated face was so pale and so lovely. Eridanus smiled at him weakly, but warmly and his eyes shone with passion Voldemort craved so much.

"I love you too, Tom," he whispered, and took his face into his hot sweaty hands and pulled him into a gentle kiss. Voldemort felt his softening cock squeezed painfully inside of Eridanus but didn't pull it out, wishing to stay inside for as long as he could. It just felt so right to fill his boy, to complete him. He sighed into the wet sweet mouth contentedly. Perhaps, love wasn't such a weakness after all.

**xxx**

Feeling painfully sore, Eridanus slowly walked through the halls of the base the next day, to the sound of indecent snickers of his uncle, who accompanied him to the library. Eridanus was blushing fiercely, as he had already had his share of embarrassment at breakfast, when he couldn't even sit properly, and his father and uncle watched him with the knowing smirks on their faces. One Dark Lord looked particularly smug, smiling cruelly at the boy's sufferings. He didn't let Eridanus heal himself, ordering him to bear the pain like the man that he was. Swearing under his breath, Eridanus had to obey. Cypreus, draped over his master's shoulders, only worsened the situation with his snide dirty remarks regarding their sexual activities, which amused Voldemort greatly, and irritated Eridanus to no end. However, as he walked to the library, his thoughts went back on the source of his sufferings and he smiled to himself. Voldemort did love him, Eridanus knew he was sincere, he felt it through their link. His Tom loved him and the pain in his hide was the evidence of that. He could endure anything to hear his lord saying it again and again. It felt so magical - being loved.

He carefully lowered himself on the sofa and lay down, trying not to move too much. Still gloating, Rodolphus sat beside him and they opened the first letters they picked out of the pile of Eridnaus' "fanmail". Since the yesterday's competition and his "coming out" Grimmauld's had been attacked by hundreds of owls, carrying hateful letters from those who felt tricked or offended by the mere notion that their Savior, the Boy-Who-Lived and saved them from the Dark Lord was a dark wizard from the darkest family there could be. Sirius, annoyed with the "shit that was cramping his house" redirected all the letters to the fortress, no doubt in a bout of childish vengeance to Voldemort and his godson. Eridanus only laughed at his godfather's antics. So he and his uncle decided to spend their time enjoying the ever forgiving public opinion. Rabastan soon joined them with a morning issue of the Daily Prophet. The first page was covered with the hugest, boldest headline Eridanus ever saw. 'HARRY POTTER DOESN'T EXIST. THE BOY-WHO-LIVED IS DARK'.

The article, no doubt written by Lucius himself, speculated on Dumbledore's motives for forging the false identity for a child, for hiding him at the muggle orphanage and illegally using the Potter vault. There were also comments from the Gringotts' administration regarding the theft and falsification of the guardianship. And, of course, a sad short story of Eridanus' hard life and his true parentage. Lucius decided to show Lily as a martyr, who loved a dark wizard and bore his child but in her desire to save her child's life she bound herself to Potter, knowing that the Light would win the war and wouldn't be merciful to her dark son. Eridanus smirked at the story. Tear squeezing it was. He wondered what would Dumbledore do now and how would his life at Hogwarts change. Slytherins, of course, would support him, since they had already known of his inclination to the dark, and his friends known of his true identity and parentage. But what about the other students? They would surely proclaim him the new Dark Lord in making, for real now. If only they knew, he laughed to himself.

In one of the meetings Lucius told Voldemort about the Triwizard Tournament that was to be held at Hogwarts this school year. The Dark Lord thought this event to be a perfect opportunity to announce his return. Eridanus, for his part, was glad to hear that only the older students could participate for he had no wish to take part in this whatsoever. After a rather dull Dueling Competition that was saved only by Severus' presence, he thought very little of this kind of events. Voldemort made a guess that, perhaps, Dumbledore, in a bout of his senile dementia, would trick the Goblet of Fire and force Eridanus into competing. When Eridanus gave him an incredulous look to the muffled chuckles of the whole Inner Circle, Voldemort elaborated, after cursing him, of course, that had he stayed a Potter, Dumbledore would have no doubt threw him into the competition to test him and prepare to face the Dark Lord, who he knew was alive and well. Dumbledore wasn't that stupid and the World Cup events would have surely confirmed his suspicions. And since he revealed his true name, Dumbledore would make him compete in the hope he would die or in the hope that he could still be swayed to the light side. Eridanus didn't like the explanation. The worst thing about it was that should he be chosen by the Goblet, he would be magically bound to complete the tournament, otherwise he would loose his magic. Oh joy. Voldemort didn't really care, he was certain that Eridanus would easily win. They planned to constantly attack muggleborns throughout the year and finish with a strike at the third task of the tournament, when there would be the maximum amount of spectators to see Voldemort come back. If Eridanus wasn't chosen by the Goblet, then he would join the death eaters in their attack at the tournament. The plan was easy, really. It had only one disadvantage: Tom and Eridanus would be far away from each other for a very long time.

**xxx**

Their goodbye was short and painful. Voldemort, obviously upset, crucioed Eridanus for five minutes, not really finding any pleasure in it, for it was the last time they could do it until the winter holidays. Angry and desperate, he fucked Eridanus right in the forest where they went for their usual morning walk. Barely breathing and functioning after the torture, still in pain, Eridanus was ruthlessly ravished on the cold hard ground and he lost his consciousness several times in the process, being ennervated again and again by the restless Dark Lord. He left him there, after he healed him, and the last thing that Eridanus saw before apparating to Grimmuald's, were the black tree crowns standing out sharply against the grey sky.

Sirius met him with a very grave look on his face. Sighing, Eridanus got up from the floor and hugged him tightly and assured him he was fine. When his godfather asked why was he covered in mud and leaves, he could only blush and tell him that he wouldn't probably want to know. Remus, who was coming down the stairs with his suitcase, suggested it was a goodbye-sex, smiling unapologetically at the two red men staring at him. At the indecent sounds that came from Walburga's portrait, Eridanus irritably admitted that it was indeed a goodbye-sex and he had nothing to be sorry for. He then turned to Sirius and Remus and told them that Voldemort admitted his true feelings for Eridanus and that he did truly love him. Both men exchanged a bewildered look and Eridanus offered to share the memory with them, but they hastily refused, taking his word for it. However, Walburga didn't. With his face as copper as his hair, he shared the memory with her, showing it through he spell much like legilimence. Fiercely blushing and coughing into her fist she had to admit that Tom did really change, acted very differently from how he used to, back in the days when he was as young as Eridanus.

The three of them portkeyed to the King's Cross and stood on the platform for a long time, chatting about everything and nothing in particular. Sirius made Eridanus promise to call him as soon as Dumbledore did something or even said something against him. Remus said he would be keeping an eye on the old man and also noted that he and Severus would always be there to help Eridanus. The Malfoys soon joined them and Draco and Eridanus left to look for a compartment, while Sirius finally found the courage to talk to Narcissa and Lucius civilly, like cousins should. The train departed and the platform disappeared from Eridanus' view. Theo and Blaise and a few older students joined him and Draco in their compartment, everybody congratulating him on his victory in the Dueling Competition and on his "coming out". As he predicted, the snakes were ecstatic when they discovered he truly was a dark wizard, and his real name made them look at him with fear, excitement and awe. At least his house accepted and supported him.

During the long ride, when everybody settled down to read, play cards or sleep, Eridanus moved closer to the window to look at the landscape that was quickly changing behind the window. It began raining at some point. He watched the scenery not really seeing it, lost in his thoughts about Tom, in memories of their goodbye. His heart ached at the thought that they wouldn't be able to be together for so long. They could meet in their mindscapes, but it wasn't the same as in reality. Sighing, he closed his eyes and reached out for Tom through their link only to find his lover's shields firmly in place. He didn't want to talk to Eridanus, perhaps, he was just as upset and bitter as the boy was. Eridanus opened his eyes resentfully and glared at the darkening sky outside. He hated being away from Tom, hated it more than anything else in this world.

**xxx**

The Great Hall was as noisy as always. Nobody noticed Eridanus enter, hidden behind the backs of his housemates, but everybody was surely discussing him, his name and his victory at the competition. Sitting down at the table, he shot a quick glance at Dumbledore - the headmaster looked as cheery and composed as ever. Either he was a very good actor, and that he was, or he was plotting something. Eridanus narrowed his eyes at the man and sneered at him slightly. He turned to look at Severus, who only quirked his eyebrow at him - he didn't know anything. Remus, who sat next to the potions master, and the two of them made a show of barely standing each other's company, gave Eridanus a small encouraging smile. Sighing, the boy turned to his empty plate and listened to Draco's non-stop chatter. The sorting went by quickly. Slytherin got only five new students and Eridanus was genuinely surprised by such a small number. Blaise noted that, after what happened at the World Cup, the dark wizards, anticipating the Dark Lord's return, hastily transferred their children to Durmstrang, since the school was mostly dark and held no prejudices against them - parents feared that should the Dark Lord really come back and start the war again, their children would be in danger at Hogwarts, targeted by the Light.

Eridanus considered the information and caught himself thinking that, perhaps, he should transfer to Durmstrang as well. Hogwarts bored him, he had no academic challenge here whatsoever, and he would be surely hated here after everybody discovered his true name. He decided to wait and see, he knew the Durmstrang students were coming in october to live at Hogwarts and participate in the tournament - he would get to know them and find out everything about their school and curriculum. He wanted to have the firsthand information if he were to seriously consider such opportunity. Dumbledore stood up and delivered his usual speech but then, instead of urging them to eat, he announced that the school would be holding the Triwizard Tournament, that the students from Durmstrang and Bauxbatons would join them in october and that quidditch would be cancelled for this year. Eridanus tuned him out. After the feast they quickly left for their dormitories. Unpacked, Eridanus lay down in his bed and reached out for Tom again. No luck. He sighed and turned to sleep. He only hoped that Tom would lower the shields soon, otherwise he would die of loneliness.

**xxx**

The next day went by rather quickly. Eridanus and Draco had double arithmacy, then double ancient rules and then double DADA, so by the end of the day they both were exhausted. Since both of them had additional tutelage in both arithmacy and runes, courtesy of their fathers, their professors worked with them individually on a much more advanced material and assigned them a huge amount of work. DADA with Remus was always a good way to spend the time, although Eridanus was much far ahead in the subject, he still enjoyed their lessons - Remus assigned him to help the other slytherins in practicing. However, the first lesson of the year, traditionally paired up with gryffindors, proved to be quite entertaining.

Of course Ron was very vocal about just how dark and vile Eridanus really was, and how he knew all along about him being a murderer and a criminal and the next Dark Lord. Draco was mouthing the words simultaneously with the redhead, guessing right almost every time, grimacing actively to the great joy of the snakes. Remus chided him modestly but was enjoying his antics too much to really punish him so he let Draco be. Ron was furious, of course, since he lost five points for insulting a fellow student. However, Eridanus paid it no heed, he was watching Ron intently, looking for the signs. Back at the World Cup he threw a very nasty curse at his back, that was meant to burn his skin in the place of the hit, and eventually spread all over the torso, mutilating the skin and causing the rotting warts to appear. It was easily cured by a counter-spell that only a dark wizard would know or by a long potions and ointments treatment. Smiling viciously, Eridanus looked at the reddened skin on the back of the weasel's neck that looked severely burnt and he was surely scratching it, the idiot. Soon his back would be covered in warts and the burning would move to other parts of his body. It would be particularly interesting when the curse would reach his genitals and his face, Eridanus mused, very pleased with himself. He was already anticipating the next lessons with the lions.

Remembering the Dueling Competition, Remus went through the spells that were used there and discussed them with the students. In the end, he made up a whole new curriculum, seeing how little they actually knew about both defensive and offensive spells. Remus decided he would teach them protective shields and some most efficient offensive spells. He wasn't going to oppose Voldemort in the war, he knew would inevitably come, but he figured he could give the children at least some basic knowledge of how to defend themselves and their families.

**xxx**

The next few days had also passed by quickly and almost normally. Surely, all the students, except slytherins, were avoiding him, walking at a great distance, watching him fearfully. Gryffindors were the ones who voiced their opinions, although still kept away from him, even Weasley was wise enough to keep his wand to himself. Nobody dared to challenge Eridanus since he won a duel against professor Snape, who had a mastery in DADA and Dark Arts. So, except a few insults here and there, Eridanus existence remained relatively undisturbed. At least he thought so.

He was once again sitting in the library at a late hour, working on his arithmacy assignment and cursing the useless books that the school offered him. He had already sent Copper to the fortress, so that his father and uncle could pass him a few of those tomes he studied in the summer. Staring at the endless rows of numbers and letters he thought he had a really long way to go before he could manage to create something as complex and magically outstanding as Voldemort's resurrection ritual. The man was truly brilliant, Eridanus thought fondly, smiling to himself. Yes, his master was a genius. The thought that he should show the best correlation with such an intelligent and inventive man motivated him to once again dive into the work. Voldemort, being the Dark Lord and the greatest wizard of the century, couldn't afford having some useless idiot by his side, so Eridanus was determined to improve himself as much as possible.

"Ah, I thought I would find you here, my boy," he heard Dumbledore say from behind. Inwardly cringing at 'my boy', Eridanus turned to see the smiling old wizard.

"Hello, headmaster, how are you doing?" he asked politely, turning back to his work.

"Well, well, thank you, Eridanus," he sat down next to him, "It is very unusual to call you by this name and, frankly speaking, I am still shocked by your discovery," he said kindly, twinkling at the boy.

He knew he should have read the blasted will when it was written, Lily was acting very strange the last few months, but he dismissed it then as the natural fear for her child and the burden of the prophecy. But now that he thought about it, she was acting rather... defiantly, she never wanted to hide behind the wards or Fidelius, suspiciously adamant that nothing would happen to her son. Was she keeping in touch with the boy's real father? Was she hoping that Voldemort would spare the child if he discovered the child was dark and belonged to one of his people? Judging by what happened, she had no contact with the Lestranges. And looking back, he now understood why Longbottoms were tortured so cruelly - the brothers were searching for the child, perhaps, with the intention to keep him, or get rid of the bastard heir... He could never know now.

He was wary that Lestranges would try to kidnap or hurt the boy, since the news of his true parentage hit the headlines, but Remus assured him that both he and Sirius were adamant to keep Eridanus save. Sirius, of course, wasn't the most trustworthy person, but Dumbledore was sure he wouldn't let Lestranges, whom he used to fight with, get his godson. However, there was the question of his guardianship. Lily had appointed him as Lestrange's godfather... had the father acknowledged the boy when he was born? Had they signed the papers secretly with no one the wiser? Dumbledore felt lost, there were too many questions with no answers, since Lily was dead and couldn't tell him anything. And the bloody will was locked in the frozen vault he could never open without a Potter.

The disturbing articles in the newspapers didn't really worry him, he knew that one way or another those vultures would have found the reason to drag him through the mud. The main problem he was facing right now was Eridanus himself. He was a dark wizard. Dumbledore chose to interpret the words of the prophecy about the 'child of darkness and light' as a reference to the piece of Voldemort's soul that resided inside the boy and surely tainted him with its darkness... but now... now it all seemed different and quite bad, very bad for the Light. He hoped the servitude to the dark that prophecy told about could be prevented, that he would actually change the prophecy and make the boy hate the dark and Voldemort... well, it was his own fault he never checked on him. He should have controlled him right from the very start, then no matter the blood and the horcrux, the child would have grown up a true Savior. And now... he looked at the painfully straight back, at the concentrated beautiful face of Lestranges he never recognized, blinded by his own faith in the boy, at the quick, measured moves of thin aristocratic hands - the pureblood prince sat beside him, not the poor boy who would one day become a hero. He should have known since the day the hat placed the boy in Slytherin that something was wrong, something wasn't going according to the plan.

"You can imagine my shock, headmaster," Eridanus drawled, keeping his emotions in check. Control your temper, his master told him.

"Yes, it is all very unexpected. So, have you decided to embrace your dark nature?" he looked at the boy pointedly, knowing all too well that he have.

"I don't know, professor, I am still very confused about this. Remus and Sirius were of a great support to me," Eridanus looked at Dumbledore calmly, smiling modestly, "I did learn a few dark spells, though, since I heard about the Dueling Competition. Although, now that I think about it, I could have managed without them - all my opponents were rather incompetent."

"Yes, yes, I heard about the way you won against Mr Moody, and professor Snape told me all about your amazing transfigurations, which, I must admit, are very advanced," he narrowed his eyes at the boy. He could learn to duel during summers using Black's wand, that much was evident, but who could have taught him such complex transfiguration? Surely not Black, surely not without his wand.

"I practiced here, our curriculum is rather easy, so I challenged myself," Eridanus told him nonchalantly, for it was the truth, his father simply taught him how to mix transfiguration with spell casting, but the actual spells and theory he studied on his own, as he was supposed to, if he wanted to get the necessary results.

"I see," Dumbledore stroke his beard, watching the boy carefully, "Have you already tried animagi transformation?"

"No, Sirius told me how hard it was for him to learn it on his own and suggested to ask professor McGonagall for her help if she would let me learn it earlier than it is supposed to be studied during the term," he lied smoothly. Sirius explained the theory to him and gave him all the notes he made during his transformations. He simply suggested Eridanus to practice at the school with mediwitch and Severus at hand to help him, should he get stuck in his form or injure himself. The transformation wasn't that difficult, it simply took a lot of time, and he had little of it during this summer.

"Very wise of Sirius to give you this advice," Dumbledore nodded. Still, the boy's acceptance of being dark disturbed him. "You know Har- Eridanus, I am still very upset about the way we parted the last term. You see, I only tried to keep you safe. And now you are in an even worse danger, since you are the heir of the Lestrange family. You are safe while you are at Hogwarts, but in the summer-"

"Professor," Eridanus looked at him tiredly, "You are not my magical guardian, I am not the Harry Potter anymore, you can't tell me what to do and where to live. I would be spending my every summer and winter holidays with Sirius. I don't want to sound harsh, and I am sorry about the last time, but, please," he emphasized the last word, trying to put as less venom in it as he could, "Please, don't try to meddle with my life anymore. We both know very well how it worked out."

"But, but you are still the Savior, my boy, no matter dark or light, you are the one who vanquished the Dark Lord, you can't reject your destiny," Dumbledore stared at him, nervously tagging on the end of his beard. He had to keep Eridanus close, the boy was a bearer of Voldemort's soul, he was vital for their cause. Should he tell him of the prophecy? Of the part that Voldemort knows? It should help him to see the right path.

"What destiny is it, professor?" Eridanus asked, looking down on his papers. He knew, the old coot would have to tell him at least about the prophecy, "I have vanquished him, that is all. He is gone."

"Eridanus," Dumbledore sighed and gestured for the boy to look at him, "That is not all, and he is not gone. Do you know why had he targeted you and your family? There is a prophecy about you and Voldemort, it says you have the power he knows not and that you are destined to defeat him. When he found out about the prophecy, he got scared that you would actually kill him and decided to kill you first," he had to lie about the prophecy. It was for the greater good.

"This is...unexpected," Eridanus feigned surprise and fear. The old man had the audacity to lie to him! The nerve!

"Yes, and I am certain he is back. Do you remember the attack at the World Cup? Well, those were his death eaters, his army. Their attack and the mark they left in the sky means he is back, alive and well, and is going to start the war all over again. And you are in danger, my boy, he would hunt you down to finish what he started, he is afraid of you, afraid you would be his downfall once again," Dumbledore hastily added looking at him expectantly. Eridanus blinked at him dumbly.

"So, how do you suggest to keep me safe? With the light family? That is where he would look in the first place, I am sure," he frowned, "Besides, I don't want to hide like a coward. I am capable of fighting. However, I still don't understand why am I supposed to save every one now, I never did in the first place, it was an accident."

"Why, it is your destiny, my boy," Dumbledore gave him an incredulous look. He couldn't tell him about the horcrux, not yet, he needed the boy to believe in him and the light. He would tell him when there would be no way for him to back out of the war, when he would be forced to fight Voldemort. Yes, he would tell him then. Meanwhile, he would need to look into the matter of the possibility of existence of other horcruxes. He was certain Voldemort would have made several of those, with his paranoiac fear of death.

"I don't believe in destinies and prophecies, sir," Eridanus said sarcastically, collecting his papers.

"Eridanus, we have a whole year to think of something," Dumbledore smiled at him, but it looked strained. Eridanus quirked his eyebrow at the man and nodded.

"Yes, well, I have to go, sir, good night," he stood up and gathered his things into his bag.

"Good Night, Eridanus," Dumbledore said, watching his back. The boy walked out of the library.

Just what would he do with him? The boy surely took after his mother in stubbornness and after his father, whoever of the brothers he might be, in power. It would be very hard to keep him on the short leash, away from the dark arts. He would need to talk with Severus, the boy must be watched constantly, carefully. He needed Eridanus on his side to make him fight Voldemort. If he fights him, he might not kill him, but at least Voldemort would kill the boy and his own soul in the process - this was very important. When he got rid of all the horcruxes he would finish Voldemort personally, once and for all.

**xxx**

Eridanus didn't talk to Dumbledore anymore after that. A week passed by, and he was restless. Tom haven't talked to him even once. And kept his mind closed. Eridanus couldn't understand just why would he torture him so. It was unbearable. He went to see Anguis one night. The ancient serpent noticed that he and Tom had bonded. Eridanus didn't deny it, in fact, he told Anguis everything about his feelings, about how much he loved Tom, how he suffered being so far away from him and how Tom ignored him. Anguis embraced his little master and suggested that, perhaps, Tom was trying to make the separation less painful. The less they talked, the less they missed each other. He wasn't sure, since he wasn't a human and didn't really understand how the human mind and soul worked, but as far as he knew Tom, the man just wasn't used to having a friend, let alone a bonded lover, he surely suffered very much being away from Eridanus. The boy listened and tried to convince himself that the great serpent was right. But, unlike Tom, he couldn't keep away, he needed him, at least to hear his voice, to talk to him. Heartbroken, he fell asleep in the tight warm embrace of Anguis, that reminded him so much of his lover. It was a real torture to fall asleep alone in bed, with no Tom in it to embrace, to snuggle to. He thought it to be pathetic, but sometimes the longing was so strong, so painful, he couldn't prevent tears from running down his cheeks. He could endure the pain of cruciatus, blood boiling curse, cutting hexes, but he couldn't deal with the bloody emotions. It seemed impossible that he could really miss him that much.

Some time later Eridanus met up with the twins. He approached them earlier in one of the corridors and asked them to meet him. They sat in the Room of Requirements, where the twins sat up their laboratory. The place looked crazy. It was filled with bubbling cauldrons, steaming vials of some stinking liquids; the walls were covered with maps, lists, schemes, different kinds of products they have already created; the shelves were filled with parchments and boxes, countless boxes full of something, Eridanus didn't really want to know. Looking around, he smirked at the twins and they smirked back at him. When he asked what were their thoughts on his real name and identity, they asked him how much he knew about the dark side and its cause. When he said he knew enough, the twins carefully suggested that they were interested. Eridanus laughed at them and at their confused looks and told them that he knew of that already. Intrigued, they bombarded him with endless questions about the dark cause and he readily and honestly told them everything. And warned them that the dark forces would have to kill a lot of people and muggles in the beginning, to placate the followers, while slowly turning them to a new less violent route, in order to separate and seclude the wizarding world from the muggles.

Satisfied, the twins admitted they would like to participate. When Eridanus asked why, George (or was it Fred) explained that their family only seemed to be the perfect example of the pure light, that the two of them were tired of being poor and being constantly told just how they were supposed to act and live, how inappropriate it was for the light wizards to be such hooligans and enjoy cruel pranks and so on. Their older brothers, who had left the family as soon as they graduated, never kept in touch, rarely popping up at Christmas or at somebody's birthday only to eat mom's food and disappear under pretense of having some urgent call from work. They lived their lives the way they wanted, not giving a shit to what their parents told them. The twins also wanted freedom, they saw very well through the masks that the light wizards wore, and weren't that keen on licking somebody's arses to get a job, like Percy did. They didn't really care for Ron and Ginny, always saw them as two more reasons why their family was so poor and why their parents were unhappy in their marriage. Eridanus told them, that should they decide to join the dark, there would be no way out of it, they would have to fight in the war. However, they could stay neutral, but supply the dark with their inventions. Eridanus could legally become their sponsor when they open their own business, and there would be no questions as to why and how does the dark side get their inventions. They liked the second alternative very much indeed. Satisfied, Eridanus composed a letter to his father and uncle regarding the twins and told them to wait for a reply from his "friends". He didn't want to bind them to himself with a vow of secrecy just yet, he would wait for Lestranges to tell him when they would be ready.

**xxx**

October came and Eridanus sent yet another letter with Copper that was left unanswered. Voldemort kept ignoring him and he felt angry, so angry and lonely and hurt, he couldn't concentrate on anything. He needed to find a way to contact Voldemort but he didn't know how. He approached the twins and asked them if they knew of any secret passages that led outside the school wards. Grinning like mad, they told him of a few they knew were safe to be used. Inspired, Eridanus came into Severus' office on friday evening, right after dinner, and asked him to cover for his absence. The potions master wasn't called a cunning and an intelligent man for nothing, he instantly realized where the boy was going, or rather to whom. However, none of the arguments he gave Eridanus against his plan worked, the boy was adamant to go. Defeated, Severus promised to cover for him for the night, but the saturday absence would be his problem. Happy, Eridanus left. He warned his friends he would need cover and, hidden under the disillusionment charm, he walked through the castle to the statue of a one-eyed witch, the passage underneath it led to Honeyduke's cellar, which was a perfect place to apparate from. Whispering 'dissendium' he tapped the statue and went down the hole and into the passage. Holding his lit up wand high above his head, he quickly walked through the narrow stone tunnel. He reached a cul-de-sac but yet another tap of the wand made the wall in front of him slide open and reveal a big dusty cellar full with boxes and barrels, and trunks. Closing the passage behind him, Eridanus canceled the charm and apparated to the fortress.

**xxx**

He found himself in the familiar study. The desk was occupied with a mountain of paperwork, books lay around on the floor, never returned to their places on the shelves. Crumpled papers covered the space around the desk. The usually tidy study was in a state of chaos. Eridanus frowned at the sight. Voldemort was a control freak, he hated disorder, he never left such a mess behind him, especially in his study. He walked out and stood in the corridor, trying to determine where his master could be. Feeling a slight pull in the back of his mind, he turned and walked into their bedroom and into the bathroom.

Voldemort lay in the tub, asleep. He looked tired and very pale, Eridanus could see dark circles forming around his eyes. Feeling desperate, he kneeled next to the tub and reached for his lover, taking his head gently into his hands, and kissed him on the forehead. He felt the familiar wave of power and pleasure rush through his veins. A soft sigh escaped Voldemort's lips and he stirred, leaning into the touch. Smiling, Eridanus kissed him on the lips chastely. Groaning, Voldemort opened his eyes and stared at the boy in bewilderment. Having fallen asleep, he dreamt of Eridanus as he usually did when they were not together, these dreams were his curse and he tried to sleep as little as he could, for he couldn't stand their separation and the constant reminder of it. He thought he dreamt about the warm hands cupping his face and familiar full lips kissing him. But he wasn't asleep anymore, he was wide awake and Eridanus sat here, beside him, looking at him worriedly.

"What are doing here?" he asked hoarsely, still not really comprehending what was going on.

"Haven't you been sleeping? You look awful, Tom, what are you doing to yourself?" Eridanus growled and pulled closer, embracing his naked wet body, pressing him against his black school robe, "I came here because I can't stay away anymore. You've been ignoring me this whole time, and, obviously, you are not alright and I am very displeased," the boy chided, rubbing his back soothingly, carding his fingers through his dark wet locks. Voldemort sighed. He was ought to scold him, to punish him for being so reckless, for running away from school, for coming here without warning him, but... He couldn't, he didn't want to. Eridanus came to him and he couldn't let him go away.

"You are a reckless idiot, I was ignoring you because if I didn't, we both would have lost our concentration on the tasks at hand, would have been distracted by the constant contact..." he trailed off as Eridanus covered his mouth with his, kissing him deeply, hungrily. He moaned into the kiss and grabbed on the copper braid, tagging on it harshly.

"Yes, this is exactly what happened," Eridanus breathed out when they parted, "Have you seen your study? It's a mess, you are clearly distracted and unfocused on the tasks at hand. Me too. So, I hate to be the one to tell you this, Tom, but you are wrong. You've made a mistake," his eyes were laughing at his lover, his lips stretched in a soft smile, "We must keep in touch, then we both would suffer less. I know it's not the same, but it's at least something... Tom, please," he begged, looking into the blood red eyes pleadingly.

Voldemort watched his face, his eyes, his moving lips and thought that love wasn't a weakness, no, it was a fucking perdition. If they would constantly talk and meet in their mindscapes how would he manage to keep away? He knew he wouldn't. He would go to Hogwarts, break the wards if necessary and ravish his boy right there, right in front of everybody. He never suffered so much in his life, even his long existence in a spirit form wasn't that bad.

He slowly stood up and got out of the tub, still holding onto Eridanus. He took the boy into their bedroom, took off his robe and uniform and shoved him onto the bed. Lying down next to Eridanus, he took him into his arms, pressing against his warm body as hard as he could and buried his nose into his hair. He didn't want to talk, and Eridanus also kept silent, knowing very well what his master needed. He embraced Voldemort tightly and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, kissing the wet skin. They both slept contentedly and dreamlessly for the first time since the beginning of autumn.

**xxx**

Waking up to the feeling of a warm body in his arms was so familiar, so precious. Voldemort stirred lazily, not willing to open his eyes just yet. He felt rested, relaxed and content. Moving his hands he felt the soft skin underneath his palms. He stroked the thin back, tracing the vertebras that were showing through; moving down he rubbed across the small of the back, caressing the side, pressing ever so slightly; his fingers traced the bones of the pelvis and slid back to the coccyx, rubbing inside the cavity, slowly moving lower, pushing between the soft buttocks. The hot breath on his neck hastened a little, and the wet lips brushed against his skin, a quiet moan escaping them. His palm covered the soft flesh and squeezed it lightly, massaging it, enjoying its tenderness. Another moan was breathed out against his throat and the lips placed a chaste kiss on it. Smiling, he moved his hand lower, pushing between the buttocks, reaching the entrance with his fingers. He gently stroke the sensitive skin, pushing his index finger inside, slowly. The muscles constricted around his digit, as the boy's body tensed and his name was called out softly, between the needy kisses covering his neck.

Eridanus' thin arms circled tighter around his chest and Voldemort smiled into the mop of hair he buried his face into. With his eyes still closed he shifted to place his thigh between the boy's, spreading them a little. His finger pushed deeper into the anus and he added another one, earning himself a small bite and a loud moan. His fingers slid up and down the hot tight inside and Eridanus whimpered, pulling his thigh higher, around his master's waist. Voldemort pushed the third finger inside and finally opened his eyes to look into the bright green ones that were glazed with lust and passion and love. Eridanus pulled up to meet his lips in a hungry kiss, as he kept thrusting his fingers into his anus, hastening the pace, drawing loud moans out of the boy's throat. He felt a hard cock brush against his thigh. Eridanus whimpered into their kiss, pulling away to catch air. Smiling at his blissful face, Voldemort pulled his fingers out and pressed his hand against the red lips. Eridanus took his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, caressing them with his hot tongue, pressing his cock harder against his master's thigh, looking him straight in the eyes, cunningly. Oh how he loved this look, it promised so much.

Voldemort pulled his fingers out of the boy's mouth and covered it with his, kissing him deeply. Eridanus hugged him tighter, and pushed him onto his back. Pulling out of their kiss, he smiled at his master mischievously and moved down, tracing the hairline on his stomach with his wet tongue. Voldemort moaned and spread his legs. Eridanus reached his hardening arousal and took the soft flesh into his mouth. Squeezing the balls, he sucked harshly on the cock, drawing a loud groan out of his masters throat. The long thin fingers carded through his copper hair, pushing him down to deepen the soft length further inside. Eridanus opened his mouth wider, trying to take it all in. The feeling of the skin in his mouth was so arousing, the bittersweet sweat covering it tickled his senses. He slid up to lick on the head, teasingly. He looked up to see Voldemort staring at him impatiently. Kissing the pulsing head, Eridanus saw his master close his eyes and moan in pleasure. Smiling to himself, he sucked hard on the head, biting it slightly. The body jerked underneath him and he heard low hissing, "Yesss, Eri." Squeezing the balls tighter, he took the now very hard cock deep inside, pushing it into his throat, moving his other hand to stroke himself. Sliding up and down the length, covered in his saliva, he kept stroking himself, tagging on his own cock. Pulling away, he tasted the bitter precum on his tongue and took the cock in his mouth again, biting on it slightly, making Voldemort groan louder.

He was coming undone. Eridanus' mouth was so hot and so wet, his tongue so skillful. Voldemort threw his head back and rolled his eyes, crying out in pleasure. He didn't know he missed this so much, he needed this so much. Losing control he pushed up, thrusting his cock into the mouth, rubbing against the insides of the cheeks, again and again, moaning indecently, his head spinning. His balls were squeezed again and he cried out Eri's name and came hard, jerking, struggling for breath. Eridanus moaned as the hot semen shot against the back of his throat. Swallowing it, he sucked on the head of the cock to draw all the sperm out and not miss a drop of it. Taking the softening flesh out of his mouth, he pulled away, stroking himself hastily. "I want to see you come," he heard a hoarse command. Looking up, he met the hungry red eyes, roaming over his naked body. Smiling, Eridanus crawled up and straddled Voldemort. He took his cock in his hand, stroking it, and touched his nipple with his other hand, rocking against his master's groin, rubbing his balls on his lover's skin. Voldemort squeezed his thighs, watching him, licking his lips impatiently. Eridanus squeezed his nipple, moaning seductively, as his hand hastened its pace, rubbing the cock harshly. He threw his head back and bit on his lower lip in ecstasy, being turned on by the notion that his master was watching. It was so alluring to come in front of him. Crying out, Eridanus jerked violently and his sperm spread over Voldemort's chest. He kept moaning in his prolonged release, feeling the cool hands caress his thighs. "Such a good boy," he heard. He lay down on the firm chest, exhausted, covering himself with his own semen and sighed pleasantly, his body still trembling slightly. Voldemort enveloped him into a tight embrace, reveling in the heat of their bodies. No, Eridanus wasn't coming back to Hogwarts today. He was being fucked by his lord into oblivion.

**xxx**

Eridanus came back on sunday morning, very sore and very happy. Slowly walking through the empty corridors of the still sleeping school, he grinned to himself, turning the events of the previous day in his head over and over again. He and Voldemort were like hungry wolves, giving in to their desire again and again. He shook his head, laughing softly. His master surrendered to his pleas and now Eridanus could feel him through their link, could talk to him any time he wanted, could meet him in his mindscape. His darkness was humming to him contentedly. Perhaps, he could visit Voldemort from time to time, running away from school for a day or two. Yes, he very well could, he mused.

The rest of the month was spent in a rather pleasant routine. Eridanus studied, spending all his time at the library, sometimes conversed with Voldemort on the subject of his work or his master's, or simply chatted about nothing in particular. At nights he retreated into his or Tom's mindscape, where they would simply spend their time embracing and kissing, or would have sex. Although he woke up sated and covered in sperm, Eridanus knew this sex wasn't as natural and satisfying as the real one, but it would have to do for the time being. At least they both didn't feel lonely anymore and could sleep peacefully at nights.

**xxx**

At the end of october the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools arrived to Hogwarts. Eridanus watched them in amusement, as they walked into the Great Hall, haughtily striding past the tables, looking very full of themselves. He smirked at the sight and exchanged a knowing look with Draco. Appearances were usually very tricky. Dumbledore greeted the students and introduced their headmasters to the student body. Madame Maxime was a half-giant and didn't really interest Eridanus. But Durmstrang's headmaster was a completely different story.

Igor Karkaroff, a slimy traitor, had the nerve to come to Hogwarts. It was a miracle he stayed alive for so long, especially at the school like his, where many students were followers or children of the death eaters. Severus told him that after Karkaroff betrayed his comrades, by giving up their names in court, he was released and put under Dumbledore's protection. Voldemort said that Eridanus was free to kill the man if he wanted, since he had no use for a coward and a traitor and he was planning to get to him on the day of their planned attack anyway, but decided he didn't deserve to see his lord return. Eridanus happily agreed and was now watching Karkaroff intently, plotting how he would be torturing him during the year.

The man looked nervous, darting his eyes around fearfully, cowering ever so slightly. He sat down next to Severus and hastily whispered something into his ear. Karkaroff knew that Severus had also escaped Azkaban with the old headmaster's help and was sure that the snarky professor kept fooling Voldemort, spying for the light, and sought support from the potions master. Severus kept up with the charade, for his lord warned him that Karkaroff belonged to Eridanus now and his life was in the boy's hands. Severus smirked at Eridanus' curious look. Karkaroff, following the direction of his gaze, paled considerably, as if he saw a ghost. And he did, he was looking at the young Rabastan Lestrange, who was winking at him from behind the slytherin table. Eridanus smiled viciously, sensing fear coming in waves from the man. Oh yes, they would play.

**xxx**

Of course Eridanus never put his name in the Goblet of Fire, but it was just his rotten luck again. Just as his master predicted, Dumbledore did it and was now watching him cheerfully. Groaning, Eridanus rose and left the deadly silent hall, and entered the champion's room. He joined the three other champions: Beauxbatons' Delacour, Durmstrang's Krum and Hogwarts' Diggory. After a long and fruitless argument between the headmasters, regarding his young age, his unauthorized participating, him being from Hogwarts and him being the dark wizard, everybody finally agreed that there was nothing they could do to change the situation. Eridanus watched the scene with a mask of boredom on his face, leaning against the wall next to Severus, who followed him here as the Head of his House, and was also bored, watching the idiots shouting at each other. Karkaroff was particularly vocal about Eridanus' dark nature - that earned him bewildered looks from the others, since everybody knew he himself was dark and reigned over the school that specialized in the dark arts. Finally, they were dismissed, and Eridanus dragged himself into his dorm. All the students despised him even more now, only slytherins paid his newest position no heed, they understood perfectly well that Dumbledore was trying to sway their housemate to the Light.

Voldemort, of course, wasn't surprised - Eridanus only rolled his eyes at the man's smug 'I told you so' in his mind. However, his master was sure Eridanus would be able to both complete the third task and join them in their "show". The next morning Draco gave Eridanus a letter from Lucius, in which Malfoy Sr told him that the first task of the tournament would be the extracting of the golden egg from a dragon. Plain and simple, Eridanus thought. Lucius also sent him the names of the breeds of all the dragons that would be used in the task. He lazily flipped through a few books on dangerous beats that were offered at the school's library and decided that was enough. He spoke parseltongue and he knew transfiguration - what else could he need in a fight against a dragon?


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, torture, violence, murder, underage sex, M/M slash._

_A/N: thank you all for your wonderful reviews, they mean so much to me! Sorry for being so slow I had a hard time writing this chapter. As a result it is boring and once again full of mushy stuff. I apologize. _

* * *

On the day of the Weighing of the Wands Eridanus did feel a little nervous. Ollivander was to reveal the wood and core of his wand and the headmaster was going to, no doubt, connect it to the dark patronus in the end. Sighing tiredly, Eridanus dragged himself up from the bed and slowly dressed. Tom advised him to dismiss the issue - whatever Dumbledore would think didn't matter, there was nothing the old coot could do to change it anyway. Well, his master knew better, Eridanus decided. He really didn't want to do anything with Dumbledore, he was sick and tired of the constant meddling. Besides, he had a much more interesting matter at hand - he had been slowly, almost gently, antagonizing Karkaroff. Nothing special, really: a few innocent smiles, flattering of eyelashes, an accidental touch on the arm in the corridor or on the stairs... Igor was terrified of him and tried to spend most of his time locked up in the Durmstrang's ship, as if Eridanus wasn't capable of penetrating the wards around it - it would be no fun though. He wanted to prolong their beautiful relationship until the very end of the tournament, to drive Igor completely insane and make him beg for death.

During november Eridanus kept the same old routine, leading the study group along with Draco, talking to his lord and meeting him in his mindscape, practicing in the Chamber of Secrets with Anguis. He finally began his animagus training. Following Sirius' notes he concentrated on his magical core at first, meditating and gently probing it - it was an easy task, since his darkness had always existed in a complete harmony with him, but Eridanus wanted to master the animagus transformation wandlessly right from the start and for that he needed to learn to reach his core very fast, spending as little energy as possible. Anguis turned out to be a wonderful tutor when it came to the next step: finding Eridanus' animal form and bringing it forth into the transformation, giving in to the primal instincts yet keeping sane human mind at the same time. It was quite difficult and took a lot of time and patience. Had Eridanus been doing it alone, he wouldn't have managed it so fast, but the great serpent helped him immensely. To find his form he had to determine what animal traits he possessed. Eridanus never really thought about his personality, he surely was intelligent, powerful and loyal to his family and friends... he wasn't sure what other qualities and useful abilities he possessed. He didn't want to ask Voldemort, since he wanted to keep his animagus skill a secret to surprise his master, so Eridanus asked Anguis, who knew him better than anybody else. The great serpent surprised Eridanus with what he he saw in him, but he readily accepted the knowledge in order to complete the transformation. By the day of the Weighing of the Wands Eridanus had already fully transformed for a few times. Very pleased with the result he shared the news with Remus and Sirius - both men weren't at all surprised by his animagus form, Sirius wrote in his letter that there couldn't be any other more accurate manifestation of Eridanus personality.

**xxx**

They were in DADA lesson with gryffindors and both Eridanus and Draco were indecently snickering at the sight of the itching and scratching Weasley, who just couldn't keep his hands off of his groin, rubbing hysterically on his genitals through the fabric of his robes. The curse was setting his body on fire, the warts were huge and must have really hurt. There was one on his face, right in the middle of his left cheek. He used glamour to hide it, but Draco cancelled it every time they passed each other in the corridors. The redheaded idiot hadn't gone to the hospital wing yet, which was a mystery to Eridanus, however, he thought that it might have had something to do with the vicious smile that Severus gave Weasley a few days earlier, loudly warning the class that this year no potions and ointments for skin healing would be covered and brewed, as they were not included in the curriculum. No doubt, the potions master recognized the curse and was all too happy to sit back and enjoy the redhead's sufferings. Just when Remus took five more points from Weasley for improper behavior in class, a first year hufflepuff burst into the classroom and announced that Eridanus was to attend the ceremony of the Weighing of the Wands. Rolling his eyes and inwardly calming himself, he followed the boy into the old charms auditorium on the next floor. Everybody was already present, Ollivander as well.

"Eridanus! Come closer, my boy!" Dumbledore beamed at him. Sighing, he complied and stood next to the other champions, being just as tall and mature as the two older boys. Cedric Diggory eyed him strangely, while Delacour and Krum openly stared - they obviously forgot about his existence and were seeing him properly for the first time. He wasn't planning to approach Krum before the first task so he paid no heed to their ignorance.

"Mr Lestrange!" Ollivander came closer, smiling at him broadly. He had already weighed the wands of the other champions and was clearly excited to show off Eridanus'. Reluctantly, he handed it over, bowing to the older wizard.

"Yes, yes, I remember this wonderful wand as if you came for it just yesterday. One of my most unusual ones. 13", ash wood and a thestral hair," the wandmaker drawled dreamily and everybody's heads turned at his words. Of course, of course Dumbledore furrowed his eyebrows and bored his eyes into the back of Eridanus' head, however, he kept silent.

"Most peculiar wand, most interesting," Ollivander smiled and waved it gently in the air, and all of a sudden the whole room turned upside down, making everybody gasp and scream, everybody but Ollivander and Eridanus who both simply smiled at each other.

Turning everything back to normal, the old man held the wand out to its owner, "A wonderful, wonderful wand, Mr Lestrange, perfect for transfiguration and illusions," he praised and patted the boy on the shoulder. The wandmaker left in awkward silence. Eridanus moved to leave as well but had to stop when the press burst through the open doors inside and he was attacked by the famous, as she herself claimed, reporter Rita Skeeter.

"Ah, Lord Lestrange!" she all but rubbed herself against him, "Such a young boy participating in the tournament already! However, after your impressive victory at the Dueling Competition I have no doubts who would win the Triwizard Cup," she crooned, batting her eyelashes at him.

"We'll see," Eridanus smiled at her charmingly and pushed his long hair back, making her stare at him in awe and hunger. He couldn't say he enjoyed her attention in particular, but he knew he was pretty enough to use it to his own advantage.

"Lord Lestrange, could you tell me some more... intimate details about your life outside the competition?" Skeeter winked at him conspiratorially and innocently placed her hand on his broad firm chest, rubbing sightly. Still smiling, he grabbed her by the wrist and pushed her hand away.

"I would love to, Ms Skeeter, but I am still a minor, so you would have to keep your nose and hands out and away from my life. If you have any question, please, contact my godfather, Lord Black," he smirked at her pouting face and brushed past her, billowing his black school robe behind him. Ignoring everybody else, he strode out and went back to his classes. He had no wish to socialize with the others more, than he already had to.

**xxx**

The next day was the day of the First Task. Eridanus sat on his bed, having woken up earlier than necessary, and considered his options against the dragons. He had already compromised his position with his wand, so he would have to refrain from using parseltongue, although it could be most useful. He was going to use transfiguration on the beasts, something simple but eye-catching. He didn't want everybody to know that he was a parselmouth, being a dark wizard was already enough, and Dumbledore would surely find the use of the snake language alarming.

A few hours later he parted with his friends, who wished him luck and ran off to the tribunes to take seats in the first row. Sirius promised to come and watch his performance, as did the Lestrange brothers. Eridanus smiled to himself - they probably made his godfather take them with him. However, he was glad that Sirius and the brothers found a neutral ground and were capable of civilly spending time together. Eridanus entered the champion's tent just in time to meet Mr Bagman, who brought the small bag for them to draw the straws from. Eridanus drew out a small figurine of a Hungarian Horntail dragon and was to complete the task the last of the four of them. The three champions nervously paced the tent, their faces turned a slight shade of green, however, Eridanus was calm and composed. He never worried too much, knowing it to be a fruitless waist of nerve cells. Besides, he was a master of occlumency - he locked his emotions away, staring at the ground impassively. He hadn't noticed when he was left alone and how much time had already passed. Luckily, he heard his name being called and quickly strode out of the tent and into the pitch.

"Our fourth champion, Eridanus Lestrange of Hogwarts!" Bagman announced, "His task is to retrieve the golden egg from the Hungarian Horntail dragon, which, as you all well know, is said to be the most vicious of his kind," the crowed cheered at these words.

Eridanus glanced at the jury, at the tribunes and at the dragon, who was watching him intently, puffing the small clouds of smoke out of his nostrils. Eridanus walked closer and heard the warning growl from the beast but didn't stop moving. The dragon roared, as he came even closer to the nest, and belched a stream of fire out of his mouth. Eridanus instantly drew his wand and transfigured the flames into water and pushed it back at the dragon. Taken aback, the beast stepped aside, shaking his head in bewilderment, and Eridanus closed in on the nest. He saw the golden egg lying on top of the others, he also saw the dragon's huge tail in a close proximity to them - it could easily smash the eggs or Eridanus' skull for that matter. Narrowing his eyes, Eridanus looked up at the dragon who was once again going to fry him up. Waving his wand in a complex pattern, the boy mattered a long incantation and his spell hit the dragon straight into the chest. The beast roared in painful surprise and turned into a stone statue. Satisfied, Eridanus jumped into the nest and picked the golden egg up to the sound of cheering and applauding audience. He caught the gazes of his family and bowed his head ever so slightly. Not looking back he went into the tent, canceling the spell on his way. The dragon came back to life and darted after him, drawing screams and cries from the spectators, but was hastily subdued by the tamers. Eridanus barely listened to Bagman's praises at the pitch and the number of points he got - he didn't care in the least. After he convinced Madame Pomfry that he was alright, he sat down to wait for all this madness to end.

"I transfigured a rock into a dog to distract the dragon and you transfigured a whole dragon into a rock! Amazing!" he heard somebody say behind him. He turned to see it was Diggory.

"Thanks," he said simply, not really looking at the boy, but looking back at Krum, who was boring his dark eyes into his green ones. The stocky boy was clearly intrigued by Eridanus and a little wary of him. Just the right effect he needed.

"Mr Lestrange, most impressive performance!" Bagman exclaimed as he entered the tent, followed by Crouch, Dumbledore, Maxime and Karkaroff, "You are in the first place, congratulations, lad!"

"Thank you," Eridanus smiled at him. He was watching Crouch out of the corner of his eye. Surely, the man knew his son had run away and was, technically, a crazy murderer on the loose, but he looked so calm and composed. Perhaps, he decided he didn't care anymore? Well, Eridanus was going to give Barty a chance to teach his father a lesson soon.

"Indeed, my boy, I never imagined you've gone so far ahead in transfiguration," Dumbledore added thoughtfully, looking at him intently.

"Practice, professor, simple practice," he smiled at the old man. He wanted to leave as soon as possible, what was the point in sticking around here, chatting about what had just happened?

"Well, I suppose the dinner is in order," Dumbledore smiled at everyone charmingly and put his hand on Eridanus' shoulder to stir him outside and into the castle. Sighing, the boy surrendered and obediently walked next to the headmaster. He wanted to talk to Rabastan and Rodolphus but, apparently, he wouldn't.

**xxx**

December came and Eridanus suddenly realized that he would finally see Tom in just two weeks. And then he remembered that Tom's birthday was on the 31st of december. The man would turn, what, sixty eight? Seventy? He couldn't help but laugh at that - Tom didn't look and certainly didn't act his age. Smiling to himself, Eridanus walked down the corridor, thinking what should he give him. Buying a present for Lord Voldemort was the most difficult task, if he had anything to say on the matter. And now he had to find two: a christmas and a birthday gifts. Rubbing his forehead in confusion he stared at the stone floor under his feet.

It was monday evening when Eridanus decided to approach Krum and ask him about the school. The boy was nowhere in sight and Eridanus figured he would be on the ship. He walked down the hill, the snowflakes tickled his face and he couldn't help but smile a little - he thought he was doing it rather often lately. He looked up at the huge wooden rostrum, towering over the shore, its black form stood out starkly against the grey heavy sky. Eridanus walked up the ladder and stepped onto the deserted deck. Looking around curiously, he decided to try one of the doors. Knocking, he heard voices behind it and soon it was opened by Krum himself. He stared at the copper haired boy in surprise.

"Hello? How may I help you?" he had a heavy accent but at least he talked slowly, it was easier to understand him.

"Hello, Mr Krum, I simply wanted to talk to you," Eridanus smiled at him charmingly. The stocky teenager frowned at that, clearly thinking that Lord Lestrange would try to recruit him or something along the lines. Sighing, he nodded and steeped out on the deck, closing the door behind him.

He and Eridanus were walking slowly past the Forbidden Forest when Eridanus finally asked, "Could you tell me more about Durmstrang?"

"You wish to know more about my school?" Krum asked incredulously, blinking at him dumbly.

"Well, yes, clearly," Eridanus rolled his eyes, "I've been studying at Hogwarts all these years but I feel that our curriculum is rather simple, I need something more, ah, challenging," he gave Krum a pointed look.

"Oh," he looked surprised but finally managed to smile. Eridanus felt the boy relaxed a little. "Well, Durmstrang offers a thorough education in both light and dark magics, the older years have subjects like blood magic, warding and curse breaking, spell crafting, we also have all the same courses Hogwarts offers, but instead of DADA we have three separate classes: the dark arts, dueling and basic healing. I must say, you wouldn't probably feel challenged at our school judging by your performance and the fact that you won the Dueling Competition," Krum looked at him in badly hidden fascination.

"It was a farce, not a competition, if it wasn't for professor Snape I would have died of boredom," Eridanus huffed, shaking his head.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," Krum smiled, "You've already mastered the art in its entirety. Are you interested in the dark arts? Since you've discovered your heritage you must have... thought about developing the skills?" he asked carefully, eyeing the copper haired boy warily.

"No, I believe Durmstrang wouldn't be able to offer me more about the dark arts than I already know," Eridanus waved his hand dismissively. There was no point in keeping it from another dark wizard, besides, Krum wasn't going to out him, there was no point for him in doing so. They walked in silence for some time, slowly moving back to the ship. Eridanus kept thinking that, perhaps, he didn't need any school at all. He knew everything there was to know already and he was deadly bored. He would have loved to spend his days with Voldemort instead of the hordes of stupid children.

"Is the Dark Lord really back?" he heard Krum ask very quietly, as if in fear to be overheard.

"What do you think?" he asked back, arching an eyebrow at the boy.

"You aren't going to fight him, are you?" Krum looked at him thoughtfully and Eridanus shook his head negatively. "I see," was all that the teenager said and they parted at the ship's ladder.

**xxx**

Lost in his thoughts, Eridanus was walking down into the dungeons and past Severus' office when he heard harsh voices behind the door. Stopping and leaning closer, he listened in. Karkaroff. Smiling viciously, Eridanus opened the door and entered. Severus and Karkaroff jerked and turned their heads, drawing wands. But when the potions master saw who it was, he relaxed and smiled.

"Ah, Igor, Lord Lestrange is the one who is able to answer all your questions," he sneered at the trembling man and sat down at his desk, feigning complete disinterest to his surroundings.

"Mr Karkaroff, fancy meeting you here," Eridanus purred and came closer to the wide eyed man.

"Shouldn't you be in your common room, Mr Lestrange?" Igor tried, putting on an intimidating scowl, but the boy wasn't impressed. Eridanus leaned closer and took him by the arm, batting his eyelashes at the man.

"What questions do you have? I'll do my best to answer them," he smiled charmingly and pressed his thigh against Igor's seductively. Licking his lips nervously, Karkaroff tried to back away but the boy held him tightly on the arm and those big green eyes were tempting him with their seductive gleam.

"Maybe you'd like to go somewhere private?" Eridanus breathed into his ear and felt the man shiver and inhale the air sharply. Smirking, he looked into his blue eyes full of fear and lust. Feeling excited and aroused, he stepped away and moved to the door, beckoning Karkaroff to follow him. Igor glanced at Severus, who pretended to be grading papers, and back at the boy, who watched him through the half-lidded eyes, biting his lower lip temptingly. Groaning at the sight he hastily followed. Of course Eridanus put a light compulsion spell on him, he didn't want his victim to run away as soon as he caught it into the trap.

They went to one of the empty classrooms not far from the office and Eridanus locked and warded the door behind them. As soon as he turned to look at Igor, he was pinned to the wall. Igor attacked his neck, kissing it hungrily, while his hands roamed all over the boy's body. Eridanus felt disgusted at his touch, but kept moaning and rubbing against the man, drawing low growls out of his throat. He reached down to squeeze his hard arousal and Igor moaned loudly into his ear. Rocking his body against the boy's he tried to kiss him but Eridanus stopped the man. He pressed his fingers against Igor's lips and smiled at him conspiratorially.

"My Lord wouldn't tolerate anybody desecrating my mouth, especially someone like you, Igor," he purred at the befuddled man and snaked his hand into the long black hair, "But he has nothing against me indulging myself when I want to play," he whispered coldly and grabbed on the hair harshly, drawing a cry of pain out of Karkaroff. Eridanus yanked him hard and sent him down on his knees. Igor tried to struggle, staring at the boy fearfully, but Eridanus pushed his wand against the man's throat and smirked at him. Igor's wand was already in his pocket.

"Please," he wailed, grabbing onto the boy's robes with shaking hands.

"Were you begging on your knees when they arrested you?" Eridanus looked at him impassively, stroking his thick hair, "Did they grant you freedom in exchange for the names only or did you suck a few cocks as well? You seem to be very comfortable in such position."

"I never..." Igor shook his head vehemently, appalled at the thought, yet there was uncertainty in his eyes.

"Want to try now?" Eridanus smiled at him and tagged him on the hair to move his head closer to his groin. Igor glared at him with disgust clearly written on his face. The boy laughed softly and caressed his jaw, stroking the thin lips with his thumb. "Come on, Igor, you must value your life more than your dignity, I doubt you even have any, since you've outed all your comrades," Eridanus smiled at him and stroked his lips again. Karkaroff closed his eyes resentfully and tried to turn his face away, but the strong grip on his jaw stopped him. "Igor," the boy chided and pushed his wand harder into the skin of his throat.

"Please," the man whispered, but when he looked up at Eridanus, the boy only raised his eyebrows expectantly, stirring his head closer to his groin. Turning green in the face, Igor moved his shaking hands to undo his trousers. Eridanus watched disdainfully as the man slowly pushed his trousers and pants down and tentatively took his cock into his hands. Gaging at the sight, Igor squeezed his eyes shut and moved closer to take the soft flesh into his mouth. But as soon as his lips touched the skin, he was harshly pushed back and he fell onto the floor. Gobsmacked, he looked up to see Eridanus leaping forward and straddling him.

"Did you really thought I would let that filthy mouth of yours touch me?" the boy laughed amusedly, "No, Igor, you are going to help me come in a different way," he pulled his belt out and hastily circled it around the man's neck.

"No, no!" Karkaroff was struggling underneath him, but the boy wandlessly spelled his limbs to relax and all he could do is simply jerk and grab on the belt around his throat. Eridanus pulled on it, squeezing the neck tighter and Karkaroff cried weakly, scratching on the rough leather, trying to lessen the pressure, but Eridanus only pulled it tighter.

"Now, how about we add a little more to that?" Eridanus smiled and cancelled the spell only to threw a cruciatus curse on him.

Screaming louder Igor began thrashing on the floor underneath the boy's body, his tongue kept coming out of his mouth as he was choking and Eridanus kept lessening and increasing the pressure of the belt, riding in rhythm with the body's violent jerks. He moaned, rubbing his arousal against the writhing man, watching his lips turn blue and his eyes roll back. Ennervating him again and again, Eridanus kept strangling him and rubbing on his convulsing form. He moaned hoarsely one last time and came on the man's barely moving chest. Karkaroff lay unconscious, having blacked out a few minutes ago. Panting, Eridanus wiped the sweat from his forehead with one hand, stroking himself with another, prolonging his release. He felt so good and so undone, he couldn't find the strength to stand up. He looked down at Igor's pale face and his crimson robe covered in his sperm. It was a pathetic, disgusting sight. Sneering at the man, Eridanus finally managed to crawl away, cleaning himself and buttoning his trousers up. He took the belt off of Igor's reddened, blooded neck and, spelling it clean, fastened it around his waist. Sighing, he looked around the scene and, reluctantly, ennervated Igor back to life. Inhaling sharply, the man jerked and groaned in pain.

"Now, Igor," Eridanus said softly, when the frightened wet blue eyes found his, "If you don't want our Lord to come and take you out personally or Severus to put poison in your food, you would stay at Hogwarts and keep your mouth shut. You wouldn't be able to tell Dumbledore the truth, I blocked this particular information in your mind. If you run, I will track you down and I will give you up to your friends that escaped Azkaban a year ago. They would, no doubt, rape you and skin you alive," he smiled and winked at the man, and strode out of the room, leaving the helplessly crying Karkaroff behind.

**xxx**

When Eridanus found out about the Yule Ball and the fact that he was ought to attend it as one of the champions, with a partner even, he came to Severus for help. First of all, he didn't want to go, simply because he wasn't even going to choose between Voldemort and the bloody school ball. He also knew there was nobody he could ask out. The girls were wary of him, a boy wasn't even an option if he didn't want the jealous Dark Lord to blow up Hogwarts and kill every living soul in it. And this was why Eridanus was standing in front of Severus, with his head hanging low, asking the potions master to help him fake a strong form of flu or even a dragon pox, he didn't really care. Severus watched him intently, tapping his chin thoughtfully. On one hand he sympathized the boy, the ball and the students were truly the worst way of spending one's Yule, on the other hand he himself was going to suffer through the whole ordeal as a teacher - he wasn't going to let Eridanus get away for free.

"What do I get in return?" he smirked at the boy, his onyx eyes challenged the avada kedavra green ones.

"What do you want? I don't have to warn you about our Lord, though," Eridanus gave him a smug smile and crossed his arms on his chest, waiting for the man to answer.

Severus hummed in agreement and rubbed his chin, considering his options. The time he spent with the boy at the fortress, dueling and simply talking to him, made the potions master see Eridanus in a different light. He no longer saw him as Lily's son, or as a boy for that matter - little Lestrange was a maturing young man, an equal, a comrade, a friend even. And he was a very beautiful young man, there was no denying it. After their duel at the competition and Eridanus' shameless flirting Severus realized that he indeed felt attracted to the boy. Of course, he couldn't have him, his Lord had taken Eridanus and marked him as his own but, regardless, there always were loopholes - Severus wasn't a spy for nothing.

"A kiss and a little touch," he smiled slyly at the boy. If he wanted to run away and into their Lord's arms he would have to pay the price.

"Fine. We will do it before I take the potion on the day before the ball," Eridanus agreed. There was nothing he could do, really. Besides, he liked Severus. Kissing and touching the potions master would surely be more pleasant than touching that bastard Karkaroff.

"I will infect you with the dragon pox, so that I had a reason to convince the headmaster to send you home immediately in order to isolate you from the student body," Severus drawled, smiling smugly. They nodded to each other and Eridanus left the office. He still had a few presents to buy.

Eridanus told Voldemort about his plan, having left out the part of his deal, of course. His master was pleased and showed Eridanus just how impatiently he was waiting for his lover, by kissing him breathless in his mindscape. Drunk on their shared emotions and satisfaction, Eridanus spent the last few days of studying in a dreamy haze, anticipating his holidays. He went to shop at Knockturne on saturday, accompanied by Sirius, who simply waved Dumbledore off, telling him he could take his godson out of the school whenever he wanted. This played out for Eridanus perfectly - there would be no doubts where could he catch the infection. Of course, Sirius wasn't happy with his plans, but was once again eager to help the boy and make him happy. He and Remus were going abroad again and he was a little upset he couldn't spend some time with his godson, but one pleading look of those bright green eyes made his heart melt and his will surrender to the boy's wishes. Eridanus also went to Gringotts, curious to take a closer look at his family vault - he thought he might find something worth to be a gift for his lord there. After spending hours rummaging through the countless trunks and jewel boxes, having checked less than half of them all, Eridanus found something very interesting.

His great great grandfather Fornax Lestrange, who lived in the first half of the XIX century, was a notorious adventurer and, more importantly, a treasure hunter. He wasn't a pirate, of course, it would have been too mundane for the rich pureblood lord that he was, but he had, in fact, ploughed all the seas and seen most of the countries and wizarding communities that existed at that time. He kept his traveling journals and Eridanus found himself completely fascinated with the stories of the battles on the sea and on the land, of the great artifacts his ancestor was able to steal. One description in particular piqued his interest: in his search for the Llywelyn Coronet, or the crown of king Arthur, Fornax came upon a completely different artifact - the Mordred's diadema, that was thought to be a myth and there were no mentions of its real existence anywhere whatsoever. It was said that the diadema was made by Morgana herself in order to protect Mordred in battle. The one who wore the diadema was invincible to any physical harm. It didn't deflect curses but it prevented any kind of life threatening injures to transpire. Many men hunted the mysterious artifact, but they were unsuccessful. Yet Fornax seemed to be the one Eridanus inherited his rotten luck from - the man all but stumbled upon it while robbing one of the graves of Arthur's knights. The diadema looked very plain, very ordinary - it was a simple golden hoop decorated with a pattern of carved snakes, whose eyes were made of tiny emeralds. Fornax would have missed it had he not sensed the strong dark aura coming from it. As soon as he took it in his hands he knew he found something truly unique. Without a second thought he hid it in his vault and warded it heavily. Following his notes, Eridanus found the black velvet box at the bottom of one of the man's traveling trunks. It was well protected indeed and Eridanus sweated hard over it but unlocked it eventually. The diadema's aura was overwhelmingly strong, he felt as if he was enveloped in a steel shield, a lot like knight's armor but completely weightless and invisible, when he tried it on. It was a perfect gift for the Dark Lord.

On the 23d of december Eridanus hadn't showed up for breakfast and lunch, faking weakness and fever. He spent the whole day lying in his bed and counting the minutes until his departure. His bag was already packed, the potion was ready and waited for him at Severus' laboratory. Right before the dinner the potions master came into the dorm and warded the door closed and soundproof. Eridanus sat up on his bed, smiling cunningly at the dark man, whose eyes shone brightly, watching him ravenously.

"So," Eridanus began, feeling anticipation overwhelm him. He raised his mental shields to prevent his lord from sensing his emotions, "A kiss and a touch you said," he slowly rose up and walked over to Severus, who hadn't moved or said a word yet, just watched the boy.

Eridanus came closer and placed his palms on the man's firm chest, rubbing it slightly through the thick fabric of the black robes, looking into the hooded onyx eyes intently. He felt an arm snake around his waist, as a hand cupped his face and long calloused fingers brushed over his slightly parted lips. Eridanus licked the fingers with a tip of his tongue and felt his body being pressed harder against Severus'. Sliding his hands higher to grab the long black hair, the boy leaned closer and placed a chaste kiss on the thin lips of his professor. Severus moaned and forced his tongue inside Eridanus' mouth, deepening the kiss, sucking on the boy's tongue hungrily. He tasted so sweet, no wonder he drove the Dark Lord insane. A hand grabbed professor's hardening arousal and rubbed on it and Severus moaned again, biting into Eridanus' full red lips.

The boy pulled away, panting, and kissed his neck instead, sucking on the sensitive skin, as his hand found its way inside Severus' trousers and underwear and the hot palm covered his cock. Groaning, he grabbed on the boys hair and pulled him into another needy violent kiss. Eridanus stroked his hard pulsing flesh, moaning into his professor's mouth feeling very hard and hot at the notion that he was cheating on his lover, but not really. The thought turned him on and he practically cried into the kiss, squeezing Severus' cock as he imagined Voldemort punishing him for his unfaithfulness. Severus growled and pushed the boy's other hand into his pants as well, biting him on the neck, swaying his hips to brush against the boy's thighs. Eridanus smiled viciously to himself as he thought that he had gone completely insane, when he fell down on his knees and pulled Severus' trousers and pants down, to grab his hard flesh better and stroke it harder, faster. Severus moaned indecently at the sight, rolling his eyes back in pleasure.

"Here is your kiss and touch, Severus," Eridanus purred and kissed the head of the cock and licked it teasingly with his tongue. Severus came instantly, crying out, covering the boy's face with his sperm. He kept moaning and fisting his hands in the copper hair as he watched Eridanus lick the drops of his semen off of his cock, smiling at him mirthfully. Squeezing his eyes shut and breathing deeply, Severus pulled away to button himself up. This went way beyond his expectations. When he opened his eyes he saw Eridanus already clean and ready to take his potion. The boy sat on his bed, smiling slyly at Severus. The potions master didn't like that look, it promised a lot of bad things. Coughing softly, he pushed a vial into Eridanus' hands.

"Drink it. It would work in five minutes. I will take you to my office then. I'll send a patronus to Dumbledore so that he could come down here and check you out," he drawled and saw the boy nod and obediently gulp down the potion. Eridanus watched in surprise as Severus sent his patronus that turned out to be a doe. Such a lovely fragile creature was unusual for such a vicious and hard man, and yet, he mused, Severus was a very complex, mysterious person, surely he had something innocent and light in him. The sight of the patronus reminded Eridanus that he wanted to teach Voldemort this spell. Yes, he thought, he would do it right after the Yule.

Soon his skin turned a bright green colour and he sneezed a few times, sending a shower of sparks out of his nostrils. Severus smirked, pleased with the result. A few minutes later Dumbledore entered the room only to find the green sneezing Eridanus, moaning on his bed. Glancing at Severus' grave face, he sighed and shook his head.

"That is why we don't let our students go out into the Diagon Alley before the holidays. It is inevitable to catch some infection in the shopping agiotage," he noted sadly and waved his hand at the potions master, "Severus, please, take him home. You are right, we must isolate him before he infected the other students," and with that he left.

Severus rolled his eyes at how easily the headmaster could be fooled and, placing the boy's bag into his shaking green hands, levitated him out of the dorm and the common room, down the corridor and into his office. As soon as they were safe behind the closed door, Severus gave the boy an antidote. About ten minutes later, completely healthy but a bit sweaty Eridanus stood in front of the fireplace, smiling at his professor.

"It is nice to have deals with you, Severus, we might repeat it some time, when I need another favor," he winked at the man and disappeared in the green flames, calling for Grimmauld's. Severus smiled slyly at the empty spot and hummed in agreement. Yes, they could very well repeat that.

**xxx**

Voldemort sat on his throne, watching in annoyance as the lower death eaters cowered at the sight of his scary creature persona. They've been giving their last reports before the Yule holiday for the past two hours and he was itching to curse everyone. The closer was the date of Eridanus' return the more impatient and restless he became. Right now he thought that the bloody prophecy was a cruel joke, for if the boy was meant to heal him from his insanity, then he did a very poor job, driving him mad with all these emotions and sex and love... He growled in exasperation and rubbed his bald head tiredly. He longed for the boy's warmth so much. Clutching his white wand in his hands he smirked viciously to himself, thinking about how he would torture his little one soon. He was distracted from his fantasies by the sound of his followers falling down on their knees, trembling at the expression that contorted his features. Cackling at the idiots, he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Eridanus just made him feel so alive.

He jerked as he felt the wards in his private wing being crossed. The little copper haired menace had finally arrived. Grinning madly, the Dark Lord rose from the throne and hastily left the hall under the frightened stares of his followers who stayed at the base. He walked into his study but it was empty. Clicking his tongue but smiling in anticipation, he glided into their bedroom. The boy was nowhere in sight. Narrowing his eyes, Voldemort reached out for his aura - he couldn't feel it. Frowning, he turned to leave to check his private library when he heard a low growl behind him. Turning back slowly, he looked at their bed - a big black panther lay on the sheets, watching him through the hooded yellow eyes that gleamed bright green when the cat moved its head slightly.

"Is it yet another Christmas present? You decided to bring the whole zoo in here, Eri?" Voldemort snorted, addressing the empty space around him, thinking that the boy might be hiding somewhere, watching him secretly.

The panther sniffed and for a moment Voldemort thought he heard it chuckle. Raising his non-existent eyebrows he stepped closer and offered the cat his white scaled hand. The panther, and it was a he, as the Dark Lord noticed, tentatively crawled closer and carefully smelt his skin, brushing its cold wet nose against the fingertips. Satisfied with the results of the inspection, the cat purred softly and licked on his palm, edging closer. Smiling despite himself, Voldemort sat down next to it and carded his fingers into the soft black fur, stroking the hot body, scratching on the belly. The panther purred loudly and closed its eyes in pleasure, rolling onto its back and draping its front legs over the man's thighs. Voldemort chuckled amusedly and covered the paws with his other hand, probing for the soft pads and sharp claws.

"Where does he find you all?" he mused aloud, smiling at the cat affectionately, reveling in its warmth and obvious delight. It suddenly rose and nuzzled its head into the crook of his neck, rubbing on his collarbones, his jaws, licking on his cold scaled skin. "I'm sorry, dear, I don't have a thing for animals," he chuckled darkly and the panther chuckled as well.

"Although you are truly a beauty. You remind me of Eridanus so much," he said softly, stroking the cat on the muscled back and on the tender belly, "Graceful, strong, proud and fierce, a vicious predator, and yet so affectionate, so warm and eager to please..." he buried his face into the black fur and heard a deep rumble coming out of the cat's chest. Smiling, he rubbed his head against its body and the cat moaned, licking on his neck. Suddenly, the warm fury mass in his arms began transforming and in a second Voldemort found a panting, blushing Eridanus in his lap.

"I can't hold it anymore," he blurted out and pinned the gobsmacked Dark Lord down to the mattress, "How the cats stand it?" he breathed out and attacked his master's lipless mouth, kissing him deeply, brushing his tongue against the sharp teeth, rubbing his groin on the man's body. Voldemort moaned and grabbed the boy's thighs. He stared at Eridanus in astonishment when they parted for air.

"You, little brat, you managed the animagus transformation and I wasn't even aware of that!" he growled at the boy, however, his eyes were full of pride and fascination.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Eridanus laughed, caressing his bald head lovingly.

"Well, you managed just fine," his master praised and pulled him into another passionate kiss, biting the boy's hot tongue with his sharp teeth, drawing blood and sucking it hungrily. No, Eridanus would never stop surprising him, it was just the way he was born, to make the Dark Lord's life more interesting and more pleasant.

"I'm so hot and so hard, Tom, please," the boy moaned into his mouth, rubbing harder against his master.

"Help yourself," Voldemort smirked cruelly and gestured at his clothes. Groaning in frustration, Eridanus hastily unbuttoned his robes and trousers and pulled them down along with the underwear.

Voldemort watched him lustfully and curiously - he had never fucked the boy in his creature form. This was going to be very interesting. Eridanus stared at his hard white cock, that was rough to the touch, covered in scales. Fascinated, he swallowed harshly and, leaning closer, kissed it tentatively, drawing a soft moan from his master. Licking the shaft he found its taste to be just the same, only the skin felt colder, moist. Moaning, he took it into his mouth and slid up and down its length a few times, but it was too rough and scratched painfully on the tender flesh of the insides of his cheeks and on his palate. He pulled it out, sucking on the soft head only, and hastily took his own clothes off. Voldemort panted harshly, moaning and silently urging the boy to hurry. Eridanus climbed on top of him and spread his thighs, pressing on his sides and steadying himself. He took the hard cock into his hands and placed it against his entrance, breathing out a few times, trying to relax his muscles. Voldemort caressed his hips gently and cupped his buttocks, squeezing them. Smiling at him, Eridanus pushed the head of the cock into his anus and slowly began sliding down its length, helping with his both hands. He moaned and squeezed his eyes at the pain, as the hard scales scratched his inside. He felt like burning, it hurt so much. He screamed and jerked, but the strong grip of his master's hands on his hide kept him down, pushing him lower, forcing the cock to penetrate him fully. Trembling, Eridanus finally took it in completely, feeling as his lover's balls pressed against his arse.

Eridanus felt his world turn upside down as he was roughly pushed onto his back and Voldemort hovered over him, pressing hard between his thighs. He kissed the boy gently, muffling the weak sobs coming out of his mouth and slowly pulled his cock out. Eridanus groaned pitifully into their kiss, spreading his legs wider and Voldemort pushed back inside, drawing a loud cry from the swollen red lips. Moaning at the sound, he thrusted in once, twice, holding the boy tightly in his arms, reveling in the loud screams. He hastened the pace and thrusted fast watching the pale face distort in pain and lust. Oh how he missed this sight. He felt he was coming already, turned on by Eridanus obvious suffering and writhing of the lithe body underneath him. Calling out his name, Voldemort came hard, feeling his cock jerk violently, being squeezed in the tight hot inside, his seed filling it up. Eridanus moaned hoarsely as tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt close to release but the burning just wouldn't let him come. He groaned helplessly, closing his eyes resentfully when Voldemort pulled out of him completely.

"Tom, please," he sobbed, feeling the cold tongue licking his tears away. He felt the slight shift of magic - his master was human again. Eridanus sighed contentedly as the familiar cool palms covered his chest, caressing it and the soft wet lips traced the lines of his torso. He felt his pulsing cock being taken into the hot wet mouth and a long tongue teased it, licking its head. Moaning in pleasure Eridanus thrusted forward, trying to deepen his flesh further inside. He felt wonderful, he hadn't felt that good in a long time. He grabbed on the dark soft hair of his lover and jerked, crying out, coming right into his mouth. Voldemort moaned at the feeling of a hot sperm against his throat and he swallowed harshly, sucking it out of the pulsing head. His boy was so sweet on the outside and on the inside, it was impossible to resist the temptation to taste him again and again.

"I missed you," Eridanus heard Voldemort breathe into his ear. He smiled and pulled his lover into a tight embrace, opening his eyes to look into a beautiful flushed face.

"I missed you too, Tom," he whispered, kissing him on the cheek. Voldemort sighed helplessly and pressed his forehead against Eridanus'.

"I don't know why do I want to say this but I love you," he muttered and smiled when he heard the boy laugh.

"I know why. I love you too," Eridanus kissed him.

**xxx**

On the morning of the Yule day Rabastan was walking down the corridors of the base, trying to avoid the ever annoying Bellatrix, who finally got her wand back and turned his life into Hell once again. Swearing under his breath, he turned around the corner and came face to face with a black panther that stared at him just as a human being would. Rabastan raised his eyebrows and glared at it.

"What, Eridanus brought a stray cat to fortress now?" he sneered acidly but before he could realize what was happening the beast leaped forward and threw him back on the floor. Blinking dumbly Rabastan looked at the cat who was transforming into a human - in a mere second he found his arms full of a laughing boy.

"Eridanus!" to put it mildly he was shocked and very irritated with his indecent fall. The boy embraced him tightly, pecking him on his cheeks, and kept laughing all the while.

"You should have seen your face!" he chuckled and rubbed a mirthful tear out of his eye. Defeated, Rabastan sighed and shifted under the boy's weight to lie more comfortably. This position wasn't fitting for the lords of a noble house but when would he have another opportunity to spend time with his son, who was becoming a man so fast?

"Why are you angry?" Eridanus asked him softly, playing with his father's long copper hair.

"Your auntie Bella got her wand back," Rabastan greeted out, "Luckily for her she is a very good dueler."

"I should pay auntie a visit then," Eridanus smiled viciously and his father chuckled at his expression despite himself.

"Say, you do it now? I would very much like to have my breakfast in a nice and peaceful atmosphere," Rabastan drawled and laughed when he saw his boy smile slyly and purr just like a cat would. Perhaps, this Yule wouldn't be that bad after all?

**xxx**

Rodolphus sat at the dining table with his face hidden in his hands. His wife was driving him and everybody else insane, spreading her own madness around the fortress like a contagious decease. He came to a conclusion their Lord was punishing them all, for what, though, he didn't know. But the bitch just wouldn't leave him and Rabastan alone. She hadn't improved in the slightest during her treatment period and he had to admit that, perhaps, she was always insane; the woman just had some kind of control before, but now she was a wild animal on the loose. He warned his master time and time again to wait a little more before giving her the wand back but the Dark Lord decided she was ready to take responsibility for her actions. Rodolphus asked Sirius once about the famous curse of the Black family that was rumored to drive its bearers to madness before they even turned thirty. Sirius admitted that it was indeed true and he and Bella were the ones who inherited it, however, he managed to overcome it with the help of his friends. Sirius hadn't suffered much in prison, he stayed in his animagus form most of the time and was able to avoid dementors and horrible hallucinations, but Bella was defenseless and Azkaban took its tall on her. Besides, Sirius had a purpose in life when he got out - he had a godson to care for, while Bella had nothing to come back to, all that was left for her was her fanatic devotion to a man, who mostly despised her and ignored her feelings. Sighing, Rodolphus rubbed his tired eyes - it would have been much better if she died. She would only hurt herself and others. And she would surely try to hurt Eridanus for taking "her man". He groaned as he heard her sickeningly sweet voice calling his name. Opening his eyes, Rodolphus glared at the black haired witch, who gracefully entered the room with a superior look on her once so beautiful face.

"Make yourself look presentable, Rodi," she crooned, smoothing the invisible wrinkles on her thick skirts and pulling her corset tighter around her breasts, "Our Lord would be joining us shortly and you look like shit."

"Of course," he winced at the nickname and tagged on his vest slightly, for pretense's sake. Before they could sit down, Voldemort entered the room followed by Rabastan - the two were quietly conversing about something, but neither Rodolphus nor Bella listened, they were staring at the huge black cat walking close to their lord, purring as his hand caressed its head. After proper greetings they all sat down at their master's signal.

"Rodolphus, did you know that Eri arrived here today? He faked a dragon pox to spend the Yule with us instead of the light idiots," Rabastan smiled at his brother cunningly.

"Oh? Wonderful news indeed," Rodolphus smiled back despite himself, yet he was eyeing the panther that had climbed into their lord's lap and was shamelessly snugging into his robes, purring loudly. The Dark Lord didn't seem to mind, he calmly sipped his tea and stroke the beast absentmindedly.

"My lord, where did you get that fleabag?" Bella asked sweetly, sneering at he cat. She always despised animals even though she often acted like one. The panther growled at her menacingly and bared its sharp white fangs that stood out starkly against the red lips and black fur.

"Watch your tongue, Bella, or someone might bite it off," Voldemort drawled, scratching on the cat's neck, "It is a very special panther," he added and turned its head to look into the yellow eyes, "A very special one," he smirked and bent down to let the cat lick his face. Bella gasped, appalled at the antics her lord allowed some bloody cat. Rodolphus raised his eyebrows and his lips stretched into a vicious smile. Looking at his brother, he caught his knowing look and instantly understood who was the cat in their master's lap. Inwardly applauding his nephew, he enthusiastically dug into his meal, feeling much better already.

"But, my lord, surely, you wouldn't let THAT touch you with its filthy tongue!" Bella cried, looking befuddled and offended at the same time. She reached out to touch her master's robe but the cat hissed and struck out her clawed paw, batting Bella's hands away. Screeching, the witch sprang up on her feet and drew her wand.

"Bella," Voldemort hissed warningly, digging his fingernails into Eridanus's skin, whose whole feline body tensed in his lap. But she didn't hear him. Her lips moved to pronounce the words of the spell and in flash the black panther knocked the witch down, pinning her to the floor with its weight, roaring furiously. Bella screamed and tried to push the cat away but it was too heavy. Nobody moved to help her. Eridanus hissed harshly in her face, batting his tail angrily at her legs.

"Get off me," Bella screamed and tried to hit the cat on the snout but missed, as Eridanus simply moved away.

"Bella, that is enough. Eridanus, that goes for you as well," Voldemort drawled, looking into the morning paper. However, he wasn't reading the text but watched his boy. Eridanus was so easily affected by Bella's antics, he could find no other explanation to his antics except jealousy. He smirked to himself at the thought. Eridanus could easily tear her apart in his rage, should she cross the line. His boy's fierceness was truly endearing, yet his lack of self-control worried Voldemort.

"Fine," Eridanus transformed and stood up, ignoring Bella's flabbergasted expression. He sat next to his father and smiled at his uncle mischievously.

"Bella, do sit on the chair, only animals eat on the floor," Voldemort sighed and folded his newspaper. The witch looked as if she was going to cry, but she raised her head up defiantly and stood up gracefully. She huffed at the boy, sending him a hateful glare, and sat down next to her husband, angrily stabbing her food.

"So, Eri, we hadn't had the opportunity to speak to you after the First Task," Rodolphus began, ignoring his wife, "That was an impressive demonstration of transfiguration, I say," he smiled at his nephew proudly and Eridanus blushed at the praise.

"Yes, you did very well and you were so fast, everybody else spent around fifteen minutes each, and you've managed to complete the task in three," Rabastan squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him warmly, "I have no doubts you would easily win the tournament."

"You make us all very proud of you, Eridanus," Voldemort said softly and looked at the boy affectionately. His gleaming caressing gaze didn't escape Bella's attention. She clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes in barely contained anger.

"Thank you, my lord," Eridanus smiled modestly and lowered his eyes, blushing fiercely. His master was very enthusiastic at demonstrating how much he was proud of him just this morning.

"We would have something very special for the Yule this year," Voldemort continued and the brothers exchanged knowing looks, smiling slyly at their boy. Eridanus raised his eyebrows curiously. "I am certain you would love it," the Dark Lord smirked into his cup, looking at his lover cunningly. Eridanus felt shivers run down his spine - what else could be even more exciting than the hunt?

"I think it's time to open the presents!" Rodolphus exclaimed excitedly and stood up, beckoning his brother and nephew to follow.

**xxx**

They entered the ceremonial hall, once again richly decorated. Eridanus was turning his head, as he walked next to his uncle, looking around in awe. He still felt fascinated with the way his master showed his creative side sometimes. There was literally nothing the man wasn't good at. He was pulled out of his musings by the tight embrace of the copper snake. Cypreus crawled out of nowhere and draped himself over the boy's shoulders, greeting him eagerly. Smiling, Eridanus stroked his scales. His Copper was away with Sirius and Remus and he missed his lovely owl. They stopped at the fireplace at the end of the hall, where the gifts were scattered over the thick carpet.

"We have a special gift for you this year," Rabastan said as he and Rodolphus dug a big package out of the pile and handed it over to the boy. Smiling shyly, Eridanus ripped the wrapping open and found a set of the most elegant golden robes he had ever seen. They were made of the softest silk, that all but slipped through his fingers like water.

"It is so beautiful..." he breathed out, fascinated with the attire, "But why would you give me such an expensive and sumptuous gift for Yule?"

"You would want to wear it tonight, for the special occasion our lord was talking about," Rodolphus winked at him. A sudden realization hit Eridanus.

"We are having a ball, aren't we?" he stared at the brothers in bewilderment. He had just escaped one...

"Guessed again, didn't you?" Voldemort sighed behind their backs, "It is so hard to surprise you, little one," Eridanus turned to look at him with wide eyes. His lord stood close to him, holding a golden mask in his hands. Following the boy's gaze he smirked, "Ah, we are having a masquerade ball, Eridanus," and he held the mask out for him.

"My lord," the boy carefully took it into his hands, marveling at its light weight and exquisite design - a panther's face was carved on it, its lines were formed by the rows of delicate patterns, tiny pieces of a moon stone were scattered all over its surface. It covered only the half of the face, leaving the lips open. "It's amazing, I..." he trailed off, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, incapable of finding the right words. No doubt, Voldemort made it himself, specially for him.

"I know," the Dark Lord said simply. he could feel all the complex emotions the boy was experiencing right now through their link. "Wear the robes and the mask tonight for the ball." Eridanus bowed. Smirking, his lord strode away.

"Don't you have a present for me this year? Perhaps, a pet dragon?" Voldemort turned to him, standing at the threshold, smiling slyly at the boy's surprisingly blushing face.

"It's in your study, my lord," Eridanus mumbled, trying hard not to think about the present so that his lover couldn't read his thoughts.

"Is it? I'll go and check then," he smiled smugly and vanished.

"I don't know how to dance!" Eridanus blurted out, turning harshly to his father and uncle.

"Damn!" Rodolphus winced and took out twenty galleons to pass them to Rabastan.

"Told you," his brother smiled and looked at Eridanus, "There is still so much we can teach you, son," he sighed, pleased.

**xxx**

It was his first ball. Hesitantly, Eridanus entered the hall, staring at the crowd. Everybody wore the enchanted masks, their colourful skirts and robes rustled against each other, swaying over the floor. The sound of soft music was coming seemingly out of nowhere, yet it lingered around the space, clear and just the right volume. It was too early for dancing and guests simply chatted in small groups and drank champagne. Raising his head high, he confidently strode forward, ignoring the envious stares. He knew Voldemort was once again showing him off. His hair took on a bloody hue against the shimmering golden silk of his tight robes, that wrapped his form closely, seductively marking out the curves; his bright green eyes stood out starkly from underneath the mask. He felt like he was a prize, placed in the midst of the dark wizards, not really meant for anybody just teasing them. He belonged solely to his master and the fact, that his vain and possessive lover wanted everyone to see that and envy him, amused Eridanus greatly. Walking slowly around the hall he could feel the blood red eyes watching his every move, yet when he looked around he couldn't see Voldemort. Sighing, he went to stand at the window and drank his champagne.

It was already dark outside and he could barely make out the trees' silhouettes in the dim light of bonfires. He was anticipating today's hunt, itched to torture and kill a human being for so long, he felt his patience wearing thin. Eridanus gasped when somebody's hand squeezed his shoulder. But the familiar darkness, his darkness, told him it was his lord. Since they became intimate their magical cores slowly assimilated with each other and their auras were indecipherable now. He turned to see Voldemort. His master didn't put on his creature persona, choosing to stay his own self. He wore long heavy scarlet robes, that draped around his tall thin form freely, whirling ominously with his every move. His mask was charcoal black, carved out in a form of a skull - his blood red eyes burned brightly behind it, roaming over the boy's body hungrily. The plump rose lips stretched into a small smile.

"You look dashing, my little one, appetizing" he whispered, sliding his hand lower to take the boy on the arm, "Dance with me," he stirred Eridanus to the center of the room.

The music suddenly stopped and everybody hurried to take their positions, pairing up and circling the small clearing at which he and his master stood. As soon as everyone was ready, the music started again and the dancers moved simultaneously, in the same smooth motion. Voldemort took Eridanus' hand in his, and placed the other on the small of the boy's back, leading him gently into a dance. They turned and turned, swaying to the rhythm, gliding around the clearing, trapped in a tight circle of spinning pairs. Eridanus couldn't stop staring into the man's eyes that burned with such passion, such strong desire, he felt lightheaded and suddenly very drunk. He leaned closer and inhaled his master's scent, trying to restrain himself from assaulting these lecherous lips, that were smirking at him so cruelly.

"I found your little christmas gift in my study," Voldemort pressed closer to his body and whispered into his ear, "A belt and a whip, really, Eri? And here I naively thought cruciatus was enough for you," he laughed softly and his hot breath burned on Eridanus' sensitive skin, sending shivers down his spine. He bit his lower lip and moaned quietly as Voldemort licked his ear. "Or do you, perhaps, want to be punished? Have you been a naughty boy this year?" his lord purred lowly and sucked on the earlobe. Eridanus pushed himself harshly into his master's frame, moaning louder now.

"I deserve to be punished all the time," he breathed out, "I am a very, very bad boy," the blood red eyes stared into his intently and Eridanus pulled Voldemort into a kiss, melting into the tight embrace, feeling his head spin as they kept circling round and round to the endless melody. He knew the others were watching them but he really didn't care, all he wanted at this particular moment, was to be held and to be caressed. Voldemort didn't pull away, he only groaned and deepened the kiss. The boy kept challenging him, tempting him.

"You do understand they would tear you to shreds as soon as they realize that not only you are my most valued death eater and their better, but also my lover?" he asked when the parted for air.

"Let them try," his boy said simply, "Not one of them is able to give you anything I can," he murmured and Voldemort smiled viciously, catching the wet lips in another passionate kiss. _"And I can give you everything, everything you want,"_ he heard Eridanus whisper in his mind, _"I would gladly put the world at your feet, should you wish it. I love you. Nobody else can love you..."_ Voldemort moaned into their kiss at this. His boy could break him with just a few simple words, this was preposterous, impossible, intolerable... He wanted to hear it again and again. The music slowly died out and the dancing stopped. Everybody pretended nothing happened, as they watched the Dark Lord leading Lord Lestrange on the arm outside, into the courtyard.

**xxx**

They stood between the bonfires, reveling in the cool air around them, Eridanus could hear the music started again and everybody returned to dancing. Voldemort took him into his arms, leading him into yet another dance of their own. They swayed slowly as the wind tore on their robes, billowing the cloth around them in a whirlpool. Eridanus smiled as his lord took off their masks and pressed their foreheads together.

"We will hunt together tonight, I have something special for you, love," he murmured and Eridanus felt adrenaline rush through his veins. Hunting together with his master... he never even dreamed about it. "I want to watch you torture and kill, I want to share it with you, as we share everything else," Voldemort kissed him and Eridanus threw his arms around the man's neck, pulling him closer to his body. He was afraid his knees would give away, so elated he felt, so excited.

"Come, we should start now before everybody else," his master said when their lips parted and beckoned him to follow into the archway that led out of the courtyard and into the forest. Someone led out a girl, Eridanus couldn't really see her face in the darkness. She was roughly pushed down on the ground and left for them to play. They came closer and as the light of the trembling fire fell on her face Eridanus recognized her as Ginny Weasley. He glanced at Voldemort but the man only smirked smugly at him.

"Run, little slut," he barked at Ginny and she jerked to obey. She hadn't recognized Eridanus, as it was too dark for her to see clearly, and she sprung onto her feet and darted into the forest, screaming, just like all of them always did.

"Do you like my little gift?" Voldemort looked at the boy inquiringly and got a wide grin in return.

"I love it," Eridanus barked out a laugh and ran off, following the light traces in the snow. He could feel his master running next to him, soundlessly, only his short quiet breaths indicated his presence. Eridanus thought his blood would burn out, so excited he was. He turned to look at the man and caught a glimpse of a feral smile. The blood red eyes shone ominously in the moonlight. The two men moved smoothly, almost glided on the air, their movements were graceful and synchronized, Eridanus wondered if it all was just a dream, so surreal and magical it seemed.

The wizards halted their running as they reached the thick of the forest. Moving slowly, they listened to the sounds of the darkness around them and to their hearts beating in unison. It was the most unusual sensation to feel another, to share the hunt with him - one couldn't pretend, couldn't fake his true emotions in the rush of the action. Eridanus turned to stare into the black nothingness ahead of them. Ginny couldn't be heard and yet he felt she was very close, probably hiding somewhere between the fallen trees. He crouched and examined the uneven trace, mostly hidden under the falling snow. Voldemort watched, mesmerized, as his boy crawled carefully forward, moving gracefully, like a cat would; he saw hunger and lust whirling in the bright avada kedavra orbs; the sight of the tensed body and of the flushed blissful face aroused him, he never thought he would enjoy hunting together with another human being. Soundlessly he followed Eridanus, not really paying any attention to his surroundings, concentrated solely on the dangerous predator beside him. He couldn't imagine it to be possible for somebody to be so much like him, to be so intriguing, fascinating, challenging. In his seventy years of life he never met anybody like Eridanus, nobody could compete with him, he was absolutely unique, one of a kind, just like Voldemort himself was.

Eridanus heard her. She moved and a twig cracked under her weight. Both men jerked their heads in the direction of the sound. Eridanus quickly crawled forward and peeked from behind the thick tree - Ginny was crouched underneath two old tree boles, that fell and got stuck between the rocks that surrounded the narrow creek. She was shivering and hugging herself tightly, the small clouds of steam escaped her lips - she was getting very cold. Smiling, Eridanus stood up and slowly walked towards her.

"Harry?" Ginny stared at him befuddled, not comprehending what was he doing here.

"Sorry, bird, my name is not Harry, you know that," he crooned, smiling at her softly. She was avoiding him at school, for which he was grateful, but, apparently, still trusted him.

"W-what's going on? Where are we?" she tentatively crawled out of her shelter and edged closer to the boy, looking around fearfully. Eridanus tilted his head and smirked in her face, reaching out with his hand to caress her cheek.

"I wanted to do this for so long," he murmured. Ginny's eyes were full of hope and admiration when she turned to look at him.

"Who was that scary red eyed man?" she asked, pressing closer to him, grabbing on his robes, "Would you save me, Harry? Please, take me out of here, I'm so scared," her voice trembled and she shuddered as the strong blow of the wind pierced her to the bone.

"I am not Harry, you little idiot," Eridanus laughed, "You haven't been talking to me since the beginning of the school year, haven't I warned you you wouldn't want to do anything with me when you know who I am?" she stared at him, perplexed, not understanding why would he talk about this now of all times.

"My mother told me to keep away from you, but I know you!" she cried, "I know you would never hurt me! You're a hero of the wizarding world, you are not evil!" there was such endearing confidence in her words, Eridanus couldn't help but smile at the naive fool.

"I am afraid you are mistaken," Voldemort drawled from behind and Ginny jerked violently at the harsh cold voice. She stared at his menacing form, cladded in red, slowly approaching them. "Lord Lestrange here is anything but a hero," he smiled cruelly and came closer to Eridanus and placed a kiss on his temple. The girl squeaked in terror and started back from Eridanus harshly.

"Wh-who are you? Why are you kissing Harry?" she wailed, shivering hard as the wind blew stronger.

"Are you really that stupid?" Voldemort shook his head, "To think I could feel jealous of THAT..." he spat in disdain, circling his arms around the boy's waist. Eridanus leaned into the touch and moaned softly, anticipating what was coming next. He saw Ginny dart away from them and he broke free out of his master's embrace to follow her. In one big jump he reached her and, grabbing on her long hair, pushed her harshly on the ground, as she screamed in pain.

"Not so fast bird," he crooned, fighting to overpower her. She was struggling underneath him, trying to scratch his face, but he straddled her and got her wrists into a strong grip, pinning them at the sides of her head. His eyes took on an insane expression of a pure blood thirst and she screeched, begging him to let her go. Voldemort slowly stepped closer, smiling at the sight. Seeing his boy in action was so exciting, so pleasing. He drew his white yew wand and pointed it at the girl.

"Crucio," he purred and watched in fascination how her body began thrashing under Eridanus and the boy started moaning loudly, rubbing against her writhing form. Eridanus grabbed her throat, muffling the sounds of her insane wails, and pressed on it slightly, reveling in the feeling of her pulse flattering under his palms. He felt so aroused causing her pain, sensing the blood red eyes watching him ravenously.

"Perhaps, this would be even better," he heard his master say softly, as he cancelled the curse. Eridanus looked up at him to see Voldemort holding a belt out for him. The very same one he gave him for the Yule. Eridanus felt fire burning in his groin and he licked his lips impatiently. Ever since he tried the belt on Karkaroff he couldn't stop fantasizing about strangling somebody or be strangled by his lover. Excited, he took it from his master's hands and threw it over Ginny's head who stared at him with wide wet eyes, she started crying and begging again seeing what he was gong to do.

"You are going to like this, Ginny," Eridanus smiled at her softly and pulled the belt tight around her neck. She screamed, scratching on it with her fingernails, trying to lessen the pressure, but her attempts were fruitless. The thick black leather dug painfully into her tender skin - it wasn't an ordinary belt, it had the special effect of spreading the burning sensation over the whole body, intensifying pleasure or pain. Eridanus pulled on it more, stroking himself with his free hand, shifting on her wriggling body constantly, rubbing his balls through the fabric of his robes. He groaned lustfully as his master's hand grabbed his hair, tagging on it harshly. Moaning at the sounds of Ginny's choked screams Eridanus pulled on the belt harder, feeling close to coming. He looked up into the blood red eyes and the lecherous red lips assaulted his in a violent demanding kiss. Crying into Voldemort's mouth he came, jerking hard on the thrashing body underneath him. He let go of the belt to grab on his master's hair with his both hands, moaning indecently into their kiss, as his cock kept pulsing painfully in its release.

Eridanus crawled away from Ginny's body only to be enveloped into a passionate embrace. Voldemort kept biting deeper into his mouth, growling menacingly at the pain of his neglected arousal. He stood on his knees, pressing the boy's body against his, hissing Eridanus' name in parseltongue between the bites and kisses. His boy kept moaning and tagging on his hair, depriving him of air. The madness of their shared emotions overwhelmed Voldemort and he violently bit into Eridanus' lip drawing blood. They both were too busy with each other to see Ginny gag at the sight of their caresses and crawl hastily away.

She barely breathed, rubbing on her aching throat with shaking hands, but stubbornly moved forward. It was too dark to see clearly, she whimpered in pain as her hands were cut by the sharp rocks in the creek she blindly wandered into. Splashing on the icy water she hurried to stand up on her feet and run into the woods as far away from the two men as possible. She limped through the trees, sobbing pitifully at the sharp pain in her chest and spine, her nerves felt fried, every movement caused her too much pain to bear. Helplessly she fell on her knees, too exhausted to cry for help. She rubbed the tears and snot off of her face, looking around desperately. Complete darkness surrounded her, she could only make out the snow, shimmering in the moonlight. The forest was deadly silent, only the cold wind howled in her ears, biting on her tender skin. Devastated, she hid her face in her hands, praying that she would wake up in her dorm, that it all was just a dream, that Harry hadn't just done what he had to her, that he wasn't going to kill her. She cried weakly, wincing at the pain in her sore throat.

"Ginny, why have you left us? We were only beginning our game," she jerked at the sudden sound of Eridanus' voice and turned, trembling in horror. He stood there, grinning at her ravenously, his golden robes shone brightly in the light of the full moon, even his hair radiated a weak red glow. He reeked of power and evil, she could feel it now, as his darkness reached out to caress her cheeks. The gentle touches of its tendrils sent shivers down her spine and she felt very sick. Whining, she threw up all over herself, shivering feverishly. The overwhelming fear shook her weak form and she sobbed, looking helplessly at her clothes covered in her vomit.

"Please," she whispered, feeling her fingers go numb in the freezing cold snow underneath her.

"Look at you," Eridanus shook his head in disgust, "You look abominable," he waved his hand and banished her vomit wandlessly. She twitched nervously, afraid he would curse her. He laughed at her mockingly and took a step closer, "Now, bird, I thought about playing with you and a knife," he drawled dreamily, tapping on his chin with his long finger, "But then I realized that I haven't used my animagus form yet, my claws and fangs must be very useful for the game I have in mind," he gave Ginny a feral smile and she whimpered pulling away from him. She saw the ruby eyes burning in the darkness, staring at the two of them. Following her gaze, Eridanus smirked, "You haven't realized it yet, have you? This is the Dark Lord Voldemort, and he is very upset with you," he laughed as she screamed hoarsely at his words. The pure terror griped her heart in a vice. She finally realized where she was and what was happening to her and she squeezed her eyes, begging for it to stop, begging to wake up.

"This is not a dream," she heard the deep soft voice in her mind, "This is the end of your pathetic useless life," she looked up and saw Voldemort standing right next to her, staring her straight in the eyes. His beautiful face was hard as a stone, and the red lips were stretched into a cruel lifeless smile.

The soft purring made her turn her head and her eyes met the bright yellow ones, the white barred fangs stood out starkly against the blood red inside of the mouth and the black thickness of the forest. She didn't realize what was she seeing at first, as the black fur merged with the surrounding darkness. A low growl made her jerk and the huge feline form closed in on her, brushing past the crimson robes of the Dark Lord. Ginny stared in horror at the menacingly hissing panther. Her last high-pitched scream was abruptly cut off by the choking sound that escaped her lips. The blood poured out of her mouth as the sharp claws ripped her skin and tore her insides to shreds, the strong jaws bit her windpipe out of her throat and she fell forever silent.

Growling as he swallowed the few pieces of Ginny's insides that stuck in his teeth, Eridanus transformed back into his human form. He looked down at himself - his wonderful golden robes were soaked up with blood.

"I've ruined my ball robes," he whined hoarsely, tagging on the wet cloth. The cold fingers gripped his chin and pushed his head up. Eridanus eyes locked with the blood red ones of his lover.

"On your knees," he heard a quiet command.

Voldemort watched the whole scene silently, unable to move. The sight of the beast tearing the weak body, clawing the life out of it made him come even before the redhead witch screamed for the last time. And now, seeing the boy standing here, covered in blood from head to toes, he realized he couldn't hold it any more, he needed to take Eridanus now. He stared ravenously at his boy, who slowly sank down on his knees and tagged on Voldemort's crimson robes to undo them. He pulled the trousers down and took Voldemort's cock in his hot blooded hands.

"Turn around," his master greeted out and Eridanus complied, turning and standing on his fours. He gasped and jerked as the hard flesh moved sharply into his anus. Voldemort grabbed the copper hair and tagging on it harshly, began thrusting into the tight hot inside of his boy, moaning loudly. The hot blood of the mutilated body slowly melted the snow around them, turning it bright pink in the eerie light of the moon. It was so dump and cold, Eridanus couldn't stop shivering, as he screamed at the pain of violent penetration. He swayed his hips trying to deepen the cock further inside of him, stroking his own flesh. He felt his master bat his hand away, forbidding him to touch himself. Voldemort thrusted harsher and faster, reveling in the boy's screams, his eyes rolled back as his tongue tasted the copper flavor in the heavy freezing air. He came with a loud cry, moaning into the wet blooded hair in his hand, Eridanus followed soon, screaming and falling down onto the snow, weak and almost unconscious. Their shared pleasure of release overwhelmed him as the hot semen filled him up and his magical core burst inside of him, setting his body on fire. Eridanus groaned and breathed heavily under the weight of his lover lying on him, he was panting and moaning into his ear.

"We must return to the hall," Voldemort murmured, having finally steadied his breath.

"What for?" Eridanus whispered back, rolling onto his back as his master got up and stretched his hand out to help the boy up as well.

"The last dance," he heard his master purr into his ear and his body was enveloped into a tight embrace.

**xxx**

They apparated right into the center of the ceremonial hall, in the midst of dancing pairs. The wizards halted their dancing and stepped away, gasping and crying out in surprise and fear at the sight of the two. Both Voldemort and Eridanus were covered in blood, their robes and hair were soaking wet. Ignoring everyone, the Dark Lord and Lord Lestrange took their position and smoothly moved to circle the free space around them, staring unwaveringly into each other's eyes. The crowd hesitantly approached to continue dancing along with the leading pair. Everybody watched the two blooded men with wide eyes, as they turned round and round, faster and faster to the deafening sound of music. Spinning fast, Eridanus couldn't decipher faces and forms around him, he saw only flashes of colour and the still, cold ruby eyes, boring into his. Leaning closer he rested his forehead against his master's chin. The cool lips placed a kiss onto his scar and he sighed contentedly, sensing the wave of... love coming from Voldemort. Eridanus grinned like mad and raised his head to be passionately kissed on the lips. The taste of blood on their tongues drove him insane and he moaned loudly, being pressed closer to the tall frame of his master. He thought he never felt so happy in his life. He didn't realize he said it aloud in the other's mind.

"I don't think I was ever happy, but if you think that this is how it feels, than I am happy too," Voldemort said as their lips parted. The soft sincere smile that he gave him, made Eridanus' heart ache so pleasantly he thought he could die right now, for there could be nothing better, higher than this.

After the ceremony of the burning of the Yule log, Eridanus and Voldemort threw Ginny's head and remaining insides into the fire, along with the others, making a sacrifice to the spirits. The two of them didn't hunt, they stood, embracing each other, and watched as all the guests ran excitedly into the forest to torture and kill the captured muggles and wizards. Rabastan and Rodolphus both were watching the pair with great amusement, surprised at their openness. However, Rabastan thought it was bound to happen sooner or later, the chemistry between them and the special treatment that Eridanus received from their lord were rather obvious even to the thickest death eaters. He smiled when Eridanus yawned and dropped his head on their lord's shoulder, instantly falling asleep. Voldemort stroked his head and kissed him on the lightning bolt scar. After the last wizards arrived from the forest and made their sacrifices, the Dark Lord congratulated everyone and dismissed them to get themselves drunk lifeless. He took the boy into his arms and vanished into the thin air. Rabastan and Rodolphus shared a knowing smile - their lord was completely smitten with Eridanus and was tightly wrapped around the boy's finger. Master and servant, lover and slave - Eridanus truly changed him, for the better.

**xxx**

"I think you should master the patronus spell," Eridanus told Voldemort, drawing circles on the man's naked chest. They lay in bed together, it was already noon but neither of them wanted to leave the warmth of their embrace. Frowning at the bright rays of the sun, the Dark Lord flicked his wrist to shut the curtains.

"Why would I even need it? It's useless," he sneered, "I don't need to send messages when I have the mark and I have a pact with the dementors, why should I learn it?" he gave Eridanus a light glare. But the boy was adamant.

"Because there is nothing you can't master, there is nothing you are incapable of, besides, you certainly have some happy memories now that are enough for you to draw power for patronus from," he smirked at his lover and looked at him challengingly.

"It's useless," Voldemort rolled his eyes and batted Eridanus' hand away from his chest, annoyed.

"Aren't you at least interested in what form it would take?"

"Anguis, of course," he huffed, confident in his words. "Why are you so stubborn about this? I am not an animagus, so what? I have no wish to master that as well, it's of no use to me," he waved his hand dismissively.

"Right," it was Eridanus' turn to roll his eyes. He pulled out of his lord's tight embrace and moved to get up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Voldemort narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"Shower. You are being obnoxious, I think we won't try out my yule gift for you after all," he sighed dramatically and stood up, pointedly looking at his master, not at all ashamed of his naked body.

"You impudent brat, do you really think you can bargain with me?" Voldemort asked him amusedly. The cheek his boy had!

"I'd say I am blackmailing you," he grinned at his lord and strode into the bathroom, holding his head high, wearing a smug smirk on his face.

"I would whip you with this belt into oblivion for your cheek!" he heard from behind the door. Laughing softly, Eridanus turned on the hot water and hummed contentedly under the comfortable pressure relaxing his tensed body. Of course Voldemort couldn't just sit there and wait for him - he came into the shower as well and made Eridanus wash him and himself, twice, as they got too engrossed in stroking and rubbing and ended up covered in each other's seed.

After breakfast Eridanus settled down in the library to read the parseltongue book on the elemental magic he and his master bought in summer. He was joined by his father, who pulled the boy into a warm embrace and they sat, pressed against each other, with books in their hands. This was how Voldemort found them hours later. He watched Eridanus' concentrated but shining face as the boy was fascinated with his read, and Rabastan, who stroked his son's head absentmindedly, gently carding his fingers through the long copper locks. It was rather refreshing to not feel jealous of this one man when he touched or kissed Eridanus - everything he did was out of pure parental love and devotion. Voldemort supposed this kind of love was close enough to what he felt towards Eridanus, only lacked any sexual context. Otherwise, the two Lestranges were also bonded by the three types of magic, just like he and Eridanus were. As a parent Rabastan shared blood and soul with his son, and they were bound together by the vows of the family. And Rabastan was a very possessive man as well. Voldemort was sure he tolerated Black's guardianship over his son simply because his own hands were tied by the law and, of course, right now, none of them could legally and efficiently protect the boy from the ministry and Dumbledore being the outcasts and wanted criminals. Smiling slightly to himself, he came closer and smirked as the two almost identical heads shot up to look at him and bowed respectfully.

"Eri, come walk with me in the forest," he said softly and turned to leave, knowing very well that the boy would follow. Eridanus smiled and closed the book, blushing at Rabastan's knowing look. His father laughed amusedly, when the boy placed a kiss on his cheek. As Eridanus eagerly ran out of the room, Rabastan shook his head, still smiling, turning back to his book. The amount of affection and love his son had for everybody was astonishing.

They walked slowly through the trees in a companionable silence, brushing their hands against each other from time to time, catching the glimpses of other's smiles. Voldemort hated to admit that he enjoyed their walks immensely. It was such a useless way of spending one's time, however, when he walked next to his boy, he found he felt peaceful, calm, very comfortable. He never went in the forest alone, it was boring and unproductive. But with Eridanus nothing was ever the same. He smiled as he felt an arm snaking around his waist. He threw his arm around the broad shoulders and pulled the boy to his side and kissed him on the temple - he was too tall for being kissed on the top of the head now. Somehow they came to the place where Eridanus killed Ginny. They stopped at the large spot of bloodied snow, partly covered with a fresh layer - it looked like mud in the sunlight. The men didn't stay for long, they simply walked past and further into the thick of the forest.

"So, have you thought about it?" the boy asked. Voldemort sighed in irritation, knowing all too well what was his little one talking about.

"I don't have to submit to your every caprice, Eri, so no, I would not learn the damned spell," he hissed but Eridanus only smiled at him.

"And do you usually submit to me?" he asked amusedly, giving his master a mischievous look.

"All the time," Voldemort scoffed, "I am too lenient with you," he narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin as if considering his behavior, but pressed the boy even closer to his body as they walked further.

"What do you want in return for mastering the spell? Except whipping and belting me lifeless into the next year?" Eridanus wriggled his eyebrows, smirking at the man.

"Trust a slytherin in your bed," Voldemort muttered and drew a mirthful contagious laughter out of the boy. "Say, I would master the spell but you would have to bring me the Godric Gryffindor's sword by the end of the school year? It is the last heirloom of the four founders I wasn't able to get my hands on," he drawled nonchalantly and smiled at Eridanus suddenly serious, determined expression.

"But you would not make another horcrux, would you?" he confirmed and Voldemort nodded affirmatively. He didn't need another horcrux, he enjoyed his sanity, thank you very much, besides, he had Eridanus - his walking life insurance. "Fine, we have a deal then," the boy kissed him soundly on the cheek. It was a very hard task indeed, Eridanus thought, since he wasn't a Potter nor was he a gryffindor and the sword wasn't going to simply pop up at his call, but he was adamant to fulfill it.

"Perfect. Now, what do I have to do to master this blasted spell of yours?" they stopped and Voldemort pulled out of their embrace and drew his wand, looking bored.

"Remember, it is impossible to master it at the first try," Eridanus purred, batting his eyelashes. He managed the fit, but he was in an extreme situation at that time.

"There is nothing impossible for the Dark Lord," the man huffed haughtily and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Right," Eridanus snickered at his antics and blew a raspberry at the glare he received, "You must concentrate on the strongest positive emotions you have ever experienced. They are usually connected with your happiest memories or most impressive experiences you had," he explained, "At my first try I used the memory and emotions of my first Yule ceremony and trance you put us all in then. Now I simply think of you when I want to cast a patronus," he smiled charmingly at his clearly surprised master.

"I see," Voldemort schooled his features back into the mask of impassiveness, though he knew very well that his boy easily saw through it. Tapping his lips with the tip of his wand he considered his memories. The strongest emotions he had ever experienced were all connected with Eridanus, before, he simply didn't feel at all. Feeling a little perplexed he looked at his boy intently. The bright green eyes watched him closely, laughing at him warmly, kindly, as they always did. A wave of affection and admiration washed over him as Eridanus sent him an encouraging smile. How could the boy evoke such complex emotions with something so simple? Voldemort shook his head and creased his eyebrows in concentration. What memory should he choose? The sight of the smiling blissful face brought forth the day when Eridanus told him that he loved him. It was a petty thing to choose, he could have sneered at himself for that, but it still felt as the most unusual burst of emotions he had experienced. And then the images of the previous night and the ball clouded his mind and the memory of Eridanus dancing with him, kissing him in front of everyone. There it was, he felt the fire burn in his chest again, depriving him of air. He inhaled deeply and drew his wand.

"Expecto patronum!" he exclaimed and saw the dark thick mist erupt from the tip of his wand and creep down close to the ground. It slowly floated, gaining its mass, and Voldemort could just feel how it was draining him of his power, feeding on his emotions, intensifying them. The black mist rose from the ground and slowly moved towards Eridanus, transforming on the way, looking more and more as... a cat. When it reached Eridanus' outstretched hand it was a fully completed, corporeal patronus of the black panther. The boy laughed and stroked the beast's head affectionately.

"I shouldn't be surprised you've managed it, Tom. But it is quite unexpected to see myself as your patronus," he smiled fondly at gobsmacked Voldemort. The Dark Lord stared at the cat in fascination, remembering everything he knew about the patronuses. It was said they could take the form of the caster's loved one. He raised his eyebrows in amusement. The cat turned and approached him now, purring softly and rubbing its head against his hand.

"Well, you seem to have seized every part of my life, and every aspect of my personality," the Dark Lord smiled despite himself and waved his wand, canceling the spell.

"See, it wasn't pointless to try after all," Eridanus purred much like the cat just did and embraced his master, kissing him on the lips.

"Mm," Voldemort hummed in agreement, devouring his mouth. He bit him on the lower lip when they parted for air, "Now, if I remember correctly, we were talking about whipping you, weren't we?" he drawled and Eridanus burst into laughter again, covering his lover's face with featherlight kisses.

**xxx**

Eridanus lay next to his lover, watching the man sleep. Tom looked so peaceful, so angelic, it was hard to believe he was a ruthless, cruel leader, who had held the whole country in fear for so many years. It was his birthday today, and the early morning light peeked through the curtains and fell on his beautiful pale face, making him look even younger than he already was. Eridanus snorted quietly at the thought. Tom was turning seventy today. He caressed his cheek gently, wondering if his master would stay young forever, or if he would age together with him. Eridanus knew it was ridiculous to worry about such things that were so far in the future, but the thought that he might bore Tom at some point disturbed him greatly. What if he grows old and ugly and would turn into some kind of a meddling coot like Dumbledore? Surely, his lord wouldn't like that and would probably leave him. The dread gripped his heart in a vice. He tried to chase the awful thoughts away, but shuddered despite himself - he was ready to endure any horror in life except loosing his lover, it would be like loosing a part of himself. Eridanus took a shaky breath to calm himself down, it was no good to start the day with the childish anxiety.

"What is going on in that stupid head of yours?" he heard Voldemort mutter sleepily as the man stirred and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, "Let me sleep, damn it." Eridanus chuckled at his master's antics. Nobody knew how grumpy the Dark Lord could be in the mornings, and Eridnus found it to be absolutely adorable.

"Not-sorry for waking you up," he laughed softly, "Today is just such a wonderful day, you shouldn't miss it," the hot breath tickled his skin as Voldemort huffed, rubbing his nose against the boy's throat.

"It's the 31st of december, the bloody New Year. One more day in the calendar," he growled, "Don't see anything special about it."

"Tom!" Eridanus gasped dramatically, "You haven't forgotten, have you? It's your birthday!" Voldemort raised his head harshly at this, the soft brown locks fell on his forehead as he scowled at the boy.

"How did you... the school year book," he sighed in irritation and glared at grinning Eridanus, "I don't care for this nonsense and I will kill you if you ever tell anybody," he growled warningly. But his boy only smirked at him and pecked him on the nose.

"Nobody knows, don't worry about that. And it's not nonsense," he smiled warmly, brushing the stray hair away from his master's face, "Besides, you gave me your... rather unusual gifts on my last two birthdays," Eridanus laughed seeing Voldemort narrow his eyes at that, "I want to give you a gift as well."

"Just get over it then, so that I could return to my sleep," the Dark Lord spat and dropped his head on the pillow resentfully, glaring at his boy. Yet he felt he couldn't even feel annoyed by Eridanus' nosiness, if he was honest with himself, he was, in fact, intrigued to receive a gift for his birthday. His first genuine birthday gift from somebody who wasn't trying get into his good graces. He raised an amused eyebrow watching Eridanus taking a black velvet box out of his bag and bringing it to the bed with a mischievous smile on his shinning face.

"This is not a bloody jewelry I hope," Voldemort rolled his eyes and sat up to take the box from his boy, "I do not wear trifles as you may have noticed," he sneered at Eridanus but the boy just kept smiling. He shamelessly climbed in his master's lap and stared at him expectantly. Sighing exasperatedly, the Dark Lord looked down at the black box in his hands. It was warded in parseltongue to conceal the aura of the object inside. Intrigued despite himself, Voldemort took the wards down and couldn't help but inhale sharply as the wave of ancient dark magic washed over him when he lifted the lid up. He stared at the golden diadema, mesmerized with the pattern of the snakes that seemed to shift ever so slightly, their tiny scales shimmered brightly in the cold morning light, the small emerald eyes gleamed, watching him. He carefully took it in his hands, while Eridanus took the box and threw it onto the floor. He smiled at the befuddled and curious expression of his master, feeling that he found just the right gift for the man.

"This... is supposed to be a myth," Voldemort managed to breathe out, locking his wide eyes with the cunning green ones, "I read about it in one of Salazar's books but he was certain it never existed..." he shook his head and suddenly burst into deep mirthful laughter, making Eridanus grin like mad - his lover rarely laughed so heartedly, if at all. "Just tell me how," his lord stared at the diadema in awe, chuckling softly.

"Well, since my great great grandfather stole it during one of his usual grave robberies, it belongs to me. It had been in our vault for more than a hundred and thirty years. I found it in his trunk and decided you would find it useful in the future," he smiled shyly and took the diadema out of his lord's hands and placed it on his head. It fitted perfectly. Voldemort closed his eyes at the unusual sensation of being coated with the weightless invisible armor. The skin on his forehead tingled pleasantly underneath the cold metal and his darkness purred in satisfaction, feeling safe.

"Morgana's magic..." he breathed out, mesmerized. This diadema would make him absolutely invincible in any battle against the Light, against Dumbledore, he wouldn't need to draw any magical shields anymore - this was indeed a priceless gift. The notion that Eridanus gave it to him to protect him, disregarding his own safety and the fact that this artifact belonged to his family and could make him rich beyond the limits of imagination, made Voldemort feel elated and... grateful. Surprisingly, he enjoyed being cared for, being protected by another. Had to live seventy years to finally find out what was it like, he thought to himself sarcastically. Warm thin arms circled his neck and wet soft lips kissed his cheek gently.

"Happy birthday, Tom," he heard a quiet whisper as his lips were caught in a passionate kiss. He eagerly let the hot tongue inside his mouth, enveloping the lithe body into a tight embrace. They fell back on the pillows, holding each other closely. Eridanus pulled away to breathe and smiled happily, caressing his master's face.

"I think you deserve a reward, my little one," Voldemort purred, leaning into the touch. He remembered that he still haven't used the second yule gift on his boy and now was just the right time to indulge Eridanus in the sweet little kink of his. He smirked at the boy's excitedly burning eyes and summoned the belt into his hand. Gently putting it around his boy's long pale neck, he pushed the tail through the buckle and pulled on it slightly, rolling Eridanus over, pushing him to lie on the back.

"Yes, Tom," Eridanus breathed out, feeling the light pressure around his throat. He was instantly turned on, as the weak burning spread over his body, intensifying his pleasure, hardening his arousal. He moaned indecently when Voldemort spread his legs and forced his cock into his anus. Grabbing his thigh with his hand, he pulled on the belt with the other, thrusting harshly inside, groaning at the sight of his boy's flushed face. Eridanus' eyes rolled back as the pain and pleasure of rough penetration and the burning overwhelmed him, he moaned softly and wheezed, unable to scream as his throat was constricted, depriving him of air. His head started spinning and the black dots appeared before his eyes, he felt drunk and disoriented, and so good. Voldemort tagged on the belt harshly, thrusting faster in, fascinated with the writhing body underneath him, that jerked with his every push, it seemed as the boy became even more sensitive than he already was. He felt the tight inside burn around his cock and couldn't stop moaning at the sensation.

"More!" Eridanus choked out, taking in short sharp breaths, struggling for air. His prostate and cock pulsed madly, driving him insane, he felt close to blacking out. The fire spreading in his anus, intensified by the fast violent thrusts of his lover, made him scream hoarsely. His lungs hurt as the air cut against them and yet another push and moan of his master finished him. Crying out he came, as his body tensed and thrashed under the other's weight. He blacked out after he heard Voldemort screaming his name and pulling the belt too tight in his own painful release.

"Eri," he was ennervated and inhaled sharply as soon as he came back to his senses. His throat ached terribly but he could breath again. Voldemort held him tightly in his arms, moaning in his ear, as he kept thrusting inside of him. Eridanus circled his arms and legs around the narrow waist, spreading his buttocks wider, allowing a deeper penetration. "Eri," their bodies rocked, slipping against each other, covered with sweat and Eridanus' semen. He cried meekly as he felt close to coming again and his lover bit into the burning skin of his throat, drawing blood. Voldemort sucked on his skin, moving faster and faster, feeling overwhelmed with the ecstasy of their unity. He felt complete when he filled his boy, when their bodies became one just like their souls. Growling in the most insane pleasure as his cock jerked to ejaculate, he smiled blissfully at Eridanus' loud lustful screams. His little one came too, he felt his hot sperm spread all over his stomach. Panting, he buried his face into the wet copper hair, enjoying the feel of the other's chest rising and falling hastily, in rhythm with his own. Soft warm hands caressed his back and sides, the hot harsh breath tickled the sensitive skin of his neck. This was his first birthday he decided he liked very much indeed.

**xxx**

The next few days were spent in the most pleasant routine, of which Eridanus knew he would never tire. He read Fornax' journals aloud to his father and uncle and Voldemort, who didn't feign boredom and disinterest very well by constantly joining them and interrupting with the snide remarks. Both brothers were amused by the adventures of their great grandfather, and by Eridanus' discovery of the diadema. Of course, it was well known that more than a half of the Lestrange's wealth was gained by Fornax in his endless robberies, but nobody knew that he kept journals with detailed descriptions of everything that he had stolen. And, certainly, neither of the brothers had ever searched the trunks that crammed their vault. Rodolphus got very excited at the prospect of finding all the mentioned artifacts and jewels and Rabastan noted that Eridanus indeed reminded him of their ancestor - his portrait was placed in their abandoned mansion in London, where Rabastan spent the last few years before his arrest. He promised to take his son there in the summer. Eridanus also dueled constantly with everybody present at the base. He was pleasantly surprised by Barty's skills, who was very energetic, since he completed his full recovery. The Carrows took him abroad for the last few weeks and he had returned on the first day of january, tanned and completely healthy. Barty was one of the youngest death eaters in the Inner Circle before Eridanus and now he looked just as young as their lord did, as if he was eighteen again. He and Eridanus instantly hit it off and became friends. Crouch Jr was eternally grateful to the Lestranges for saving him, he was certain he would have created some serious mess back at the Cup, if they hadn't found him.

Severus came a few days after the New Year and also participated in the group and tet-a-tet dueling with Lord Lestrange, smirking at him smugly all the time. Eridanus couldn't help but laugh at the man. Surely, the potions master wasn't going to forget their innocent game very soon. He couldn't deny that he was indeed attracted to the dark mysterious professor, but his attraction was more of a physical, experimental kind. He felt the seductive thrill of danger every time he thought about their kiss, being in the close proximity to his master. On one hand he knew, that he put Severus' life in deadly peril, but on the other... it was just so arousing and tempting to have the potions master wrapped around his finger, to feel the man's ravenous gaze upon his body and lips every time they met. Most of all he wanted his lord to be jealous, he craved his insane passion and unhealthy possessiveness. If only he had the guarantee that Severus would survive, he would have already told Voldemort everything to get what he deserved for his unfaithfulness.

Bella kept suspiciously quiet all this time, glaring at Eridanus hatefully at the meals but keeping her mouth shut. His master said she followed them after the ball and saw what they did in the forest to the girl and to each other - he suggested that, perhaps, she had finally realized that she had no chances whatsoever. But Eridanus and both his father and uncle couldn't agree with their lord and watched her carefully. She followed Eridanus everywhere, spying on him. She watched as he took his everyday walks with Voldemort in the forest; as he read in the library, tightly wrapped in Cypreus' heavy coils; as he dueled with other wizards or played with Barty and his family in the snow; as he kissed their lord every time he had an opportunity; she once saw how Voldemort tortured him, when the Dark Lord couldn't wait to get into their bedroom and made him scream in pain and then in pleasure, fucking him right on the dining table. No one of the Inner Circle questioned their relationship, knowing all too well that if Eridanus managed to last that long in their lord's bed then he was truly special and was to be respected. No one but Bella.

**xxx**

Severus and Eridanus sat in the library, discussing the possible potions Eridanus could brew for his second task in the tournament. He had opened the egg a few days after he took it from the dragon, figured out that it must have been opened underwater and did so. After listening to the song for a few times he came to a conclusion that he needed to find a way to breathe underwater and be able to cast spells at the same time. He entertained the idea of turning into a sea snake or a mermaid, but that would have confined his magical abilities, so he settled on potions. They were much more reliable when it came to self transfiguration and they lasted longer. His professor suggested to brew a potion that would simply affect his respiratory tract, adding the gills, but Eridanus was interested in a more complex brew, that would give him the abilities of an underwater inhabitant. So they sat, surrounded by the books on fauna and potions, debating enthusiastically and rather passionately over the subject. Eridanus felt that his lord was watching them and he knew he should have controlled himself, but adrenaline and lust clouded his mind. He grabbed Severus hand, when the man was about to make another snide remark, and squeezed it, looking at him hungrily.

"Severus," he purred, biting his lower lip, trembling in anticipation. The professor shut up and stared at him, squeezing his hand back. Eridanus pressed closer to him, their faces were inches apart, and smiled, bating his eyelashes, "I am sure I can brew all the variants we've discussed and test them," he breathed out, rubbing his thumb against the dry skin of the back of Severus' hand.

"Do not tempt me, child," Severus growled. He also knew they were being watched and he knew what dangerous game Eridanus was playing but he wasn't ready to pay with his life for the boy's masochistic desires. "Had you saved my life in vain two years ago? Or do you not care for me anymore and ready to spare me for your sex games?" he glared at the boy, trying as hard as he could not to give in to temptation to kiss him. How had he come to the point when he could let a boy manipulate him so easily?

"No, of course not," Eridanus frowned and pouted. "Forgive me," he sighed and pecked his professor on the cheek and left. Severus shuddered as a few minutes later a heavy hand squeezed his shoulder.

"I am proud of you, Severusss," he heard a cold menacing hiss, as the hand pressed harder, causing him pain, "I know how irresistible Eridanus is, I wouldn't punish you yet - see it as a reward for your loyalty," he felt as the sharp nails dug into his skin through the thick fabric of his robes and drew blood."However, you would remember well not to touch him back," a hot breath tickled his ear as his lord bent down to grab him on his jaw. He looked into the blood red eyes, that gleamed ominously, promising pain and death, and thought that, perhaps, Eridanus did achieve the desired result for today. The Dark Lord was livid. He was calm on the outside but Severus knew very well all the signs of the upcoming storm.

"Thank you, my lord," he whispered, keeping his expression and occlumency shields in check. His master growled lowly and tore his hand away from his face, leaving a few stinging scratches behind. He vanished in a whirl of black robes. Swallowing harshly, Severus let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He needed to brew a subduing potion for himself, so that his cock wouldn't react to any of Eridanus' fits. He dropped his head onto the open book, groaning weakly. That little copper haired menace was going to be the death of him.

In the evening Eridanus attended the death eaters' meeting, where Voldemort was going to give out new tasks and also establish the dates and the places of the attacks. According to his new plans, they were to assault only muggleborn wizards now, mostly ministry employees, leaving muggles in a relative peace. When they all gathered and kneeled in front of him, with the Inner Circle standing behind his throne as usual, he waved his white bony hand at the small group that stood a little aside - werewolves. They had finally made a pact with the dark side, pledging their loyalty to he Dark Lord in return for their eventual freedom and acceptance in the wizarding society. Voldemort wasn't fond of the dogs, as he called them, but had to work on giving them their rights back, otherwise he would be called hypocritical and unfair and that was counterproductive for their cause. The four werewolves and their leader Fenrir Greyback kneeled at his feet and made the magical vows, binding themselves to his will.

"This is truly a great day for our cause, I am satisfied to see our so long awaited union to be finally completed," he stretched his lipless mouth in a parody of a smile, licking his sharp teeth, "And although you, our dear guests, already know the way we work, I'd like to demonstrate to you, that no matter the rank, no matter the position, we are all equals here, and we all get what we rightfully deserve: rewards and punishments. Isn't that right, lord Lestrange?" he purred coldly and turned to glare at Eridanus. Everybody gasped and started quietly whispering between themselves. It was clear their lord was angry with his most valued death eater, but what had the boy done? Eridanus stepped forward, holding his head high and bowed to his master.

"Yes, my lord, you are right," he said calmly, although inwardly he was trembling in anticipation and desire. Voldemort gestured for him to stand before the throne and the crowd of spectators. The boy complied, kneeling at his feet and kissing the hem of his robe. He raised his eyes to look into the cold, furious blood red ones and gave his master a tiny smile.

"You are going to be punished for your cheek, child, so that everybody here knew that I do not tolerate disobedience and disloyalty," he hissed and drew his wand, glaring at his boy, who patiently waited on his knees. "Crucio!"

Eridanus started screaming only after the third minute, mostly because he wanted to get a reaction from Voldemort. He thrashed on the floor, spitting blood as his insides were brutally maimed. He felt his legs go numb and he screamed louder, grabbing at his hair, as the fire enveloped his brain. The crowd watched in horror and fascination as the fifth minute went by and the boy was still holding on.

::I would have whipped you right in front of them, but it would only turn you on,:: Voldemort hissed, watching him impassively, though his body betrayed him, growing hot and rushing his blood down to the groin, ::I see the game you are playing, love, and I do enjoy it. However, Severus was right when he noticed that you, probably, lost interest in his well being. If I didn't know how much you like him, I would have cut his throat before you placed that kiss on his cheek,:: he spat, enraged. Jealousy was burning in his chest and ripping him apart. It was only due to his sanity that he restrained himself from killing the potions master. The thought that his boy wanted him jealous aroused him, but at the same time he couldn't stand the mere notion that somebody could touch what was his and his alone. ::You belong to me and if I ever find out you let somebody else touch you I would kill Severus, regardless of his own actions, do you understand?:: he bent down to look into the unfocused green eyes that had lost its bright gleam, inwardly cursing himself for torturing the boy for so long. It was already six minutes and a half and he hastily canceled the spell.

::Yes,:: Eridanus managed to breathe out a few moments later, when his limbs relaxed under the parsel healing spell, that his lord sent, unnoticed by everybody else. ::I wish you could whip me, though,:: he smiled wryly, as he rolled on his side and spitted the blood onto the cold stone floor, ::I would gladly scream for you some more::

::Shut up and go stand in your place,:: Voldemort muttered, shifting in his seat to lessen the painful pressure between his legs, ::We will continue our lesson on faithfulness later:: Eridanus smiled and slowly rose up, sensing the looks of disbelief and awe everybody sent him. The Dark Lord never tortured longer than for two minutes, and people usually lost their minds at the fourth. He smirked at Greyback, who was watching him curiously, and slowly walked to take his position, moving with as much dignity and grace as his aching bleeding body allowed him. He met Severus' pained look and smiled at him softly. His professor should be glad he wasn't the one to writhe at his master's feet today. Bella, however, was all but cackling, glaring at him triumphantly. She, probably, thought that their lord would discard of him in his anger and displeasure. Eridanus only shook his head and stood straight next to his father, smiling at him. Rabastan smiled back - he didn't know why exactly was his son punished publicly but he could guess... by the certain black haired man's tightly pursed lips and clenched fists. Severus should be more careful with his desires. Eridanus might get off lightly with that, but the potions master could very well pay with his life.

**xxx**

The rest of the meeting went by easily and quickly. After they were finished, everybody spread out around the base.

"You're a fucking masochist, Eri," Barty laughed as he walked by Eridanus' side into the drawing room to get some drinks. "Isn't our lord satisfying enough for you in bed? You're mental!" he breathed out between the hiccups. Eridanus glared at him playfully but only shrugged his shoulder - the other one was still numb and didn't really obey him yet. They took their glasses from the house elf and sipped on brandy that was in them.

"A few words, ickle Erikinns?" he heard Bella's sweet voice as she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to give her an expectant look - what was it she wanted from him now? "Let's go back to the hall, away from prying ears," she grabbed him painfully on the arm and glared at Barty, stirring Eridanus away with her.

"I don't like that," Barty muttered to himself and, downing his drink in one gulp, went out of the room to look for his lord. Bella and Eri alone were the worst possible scenario he didn't want to see play out.

"So what do you wish to discuss, auntie, dearest?" Eridanus drawled as they entered the hall. But before he could even move she fired a spell at him. He fell down on the floor, casting a shield wandlessly around himself. The bitch decided to take him out while he was weak after the torture! The cheek! Growling, he rolled to the side and drew his wand, hitting her with a cutting hex right on the ankle. Screeching in pain she jumped away and he finally stood up, pointing the wand at her. Bella glared at him and sent a blasting curse but, of course, he deflected it, almost lazily, and stared at her expectantly. What was she trying to achieve or to prove with this?

"Little son of a whore!" she spat disdainfully, holding her wand up, ready to fire at his slightest move.

"I never knew my mother, so I can't judge nor can I really say anything against," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "Just tell me what do you want, Bella? I am really tired, all I want is a drink and a good night's sleep."

"You won't be sleeping in our lord's bed tonight, slut!" she smiled viciously and stepped closer, "What did you do, ickle Erikinns? Sucked everybody's cocks around here? I see the way they all look at you, practically eating you with their eyes," she snarled angrily. There we go again, Eridanus inwardly groaned.

"Sucking everybody's cocks seems to be your department, auntie, judging by how you've been treating your husband," he sneered at her, stepping closer as well, "Need I remind you that as the head of our family I can disown you in one flick of my fingers? I am sick and tired of your jealousy, find yourself a man and get over it already!" they both were mere inches apart and she grabbed him on his robes.

"Lord or not, I will teach you a lesson, sweetie," she crooned with a sugary smile, though her eyes were cold and promised pain.

"Only our lord can teach me, auntie," Eridanus smiled at her brilliantly and snatched her wand out of her hand and threw it away. She cried out in anger and jerked after it, but he grabbed her on the throat instead, hiding his wand in the holster and catching her wrists in a tight grip with the other hand. Struggling, she spitted in his face, but he didn't move a muscle, only pursed his lips into a straight line, and his eyes took on a paler brighter hue, shining dangerously in the candle light. He pushed her down and straddled her, still holding her by the throat.

"Is this what you want?" he rubbed her saliva off of his face and slapped on hers, drawing an enraged scream from her lips. He slapped her again, "Is it?" she writhed underneath him, trying to break free, but he pushed down harder, increasing the pressure on the throat as well.

Voldemort slowly approached the doors of the hall and halted at the threshold, gesturing for Barty, who followed him, to stop. Their wands were drawn but the Dark Lord decided to watch a little longer, perhaps, his boy would deal with the situation without his interference. The sight of him, straddling and choking Bella was indeed attractive and alluring.

"Or maybe this is what you want?" Eridanus spat and ripped her corset open, letting her breasts fall out naked, digging his nails into the soft flesh, "How long had it been since anybody fucked you, mm? Or have you forgotten poor old Rodolphus? Not good enough for you? Not young enough?" he bent down and their noses almost touched, so close he was to her, "Would I be a good substitute? You've been stalking me for days, auntie, been watching our lord take me... I'm starting to believe you are interested in me and not our master," he sneered and pulled back to slap her on the face again. She cried again but her screams sounded more like moans, her eyes burned with fury and lust. Of course she wanted the boy just like she wanted Rabastan when he was younger. It was something about them that drew her despite her hatred towards them. Eridanus grimaced at her obvious arousal and moved to get away from her, disgusted, but she grabbed on his thighs, pinning him back to sit on her.

"Do it, little whore, fuck me," she spat, grabbing on his robes with her hand and pulling him down harshly, "I want to see what our lord found in you-" she was cut off as he put his other hand on her throat and started strangling her. She stared wildly at his furious face, he looked absolutely terrifying, the pupils almost disappeared in the glowing avada kedavra orbs, his body started shaking and the black flames erupted from underneath his palms and she started screaming hoarsely and thrashing in intolerable pain.

"Eridanus," the cold commanding tone made him stop instantly, and he hastily let go of Bella, before he burned her neck to ashes. She tried to grab on it, wheezing weakly and choking on her own blood. Voldemort came closer and pulled the boy up by the collar of his robes and pushed him to stand aside. He then bent down and pointed his wand at Bella's neck, hissing spells in parseltongue. As soon as she fell silent and unconscious, but her breath became steady, the Dark Lord waved at Barty to take her into the hospital wing. The young man hastily levitated her and ran out of the hall.

"How many times do I have to tell you to control your temper?" he turned to glare at his boy, his white snake face contorted with anger and worry. The boy closed his eyes resentfully and turned his face away. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," Eridanus heard a low hiss but he didn't obey.

"Look at me!" Voldemort roared, grabbing him by the jaw and forcing him to turn and open his eyes. The blood red eyes watched him intently, searching his face. "You could have hurt yourself, don't you understand? You can't wield the elemental magic just yet, your body is too young for that, the flames could have devoured you!" he growled and grabbed Eridanus' now blooded hand and pulled it up for him to see, "Do you see this? You've burnt your skin, it's only meat and bones now!" Voldemort spat furiously and pinned him with a glare, waiting for his reaction. Eridanus stared dumbly at his hand, watching the muscles jerk and stretch as he slightly moved his fingers. He hadn't felt any pain, the flames ate his flesh along with Bella's but only she was hurting in the process.

"Forgive me," he looked up into the ruby eyes and swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very stupid and weak, pathetic. Voldemort sighed heavily and let go of his face to take his hands in his. He looked at them, frowning, caressing the bleeding flesh with his thumbs.

"Let's hope Severus hasn't left yet, he is much better at bandaging than I am. You remember any healing spells from that book we bought in summer?" he still wasn't looking at the boy and Eridanus humphed affirmatively, "Good, as soon as he coats your hands in healing salve and wraps them, you would make your skin grow back. We don't have a regenerating potion in stock and neither Severus, nor I are able to brew it now, it must simmer for two weeks minimum..." he trailed off dropping the boy's hands and turned to walk to the hospital wing, not checking if Eridanus followed - of course he did. He walked behind his master hanging his head low.

He saw Bella lying on the bed, unconscious, with her neck tightly bandaged. Severus and a mediwitch were preparing a potion for her to take, as Rodolphus and Rabastan stood next to her bed, looking... disappointed.

"Shame she didn't die, again," his uncle sighed as Eridanus came closer to sit on the bed next to hers. Rabastan frowned at the sight of his hands and looked at their lord but Voldemort only arched his non-existent eyebrow at him. Severus returned to pour the potion into Bella's mouth and stared at Eridanus.

"I thought it was some burning curse. I was mistaken, apparently," he gave the boy a pointed look and bent down to the black haired witch, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Put a salve on his hands and bandage them, he would heal himself after that," Voldemort commanded and strode out of the wing, not sparing Eridanus another look. The boy sighed sadly and fell back on the bed. Rabastan came to his side and stroked his hair gently, looking at him warmly, concern written in his vibrant blue eyes. A few minutes later Eridanus saw Severus bent down to check his temperature and pulse, his onyx eyes watched him worriedly. He smiled at his professor wryly and Severus sighed tiredly at him.

"Raise your hands up, we need to stop the bleeding."

**xxx**

Eridanus hesitantly entered their bedroom - his master was nowhere in sight. Frowning in self-disgust he walked over to the bed and carefully raised his hands, banishing his clothes wandlessly. He sat down and rubbed on his forehead with the back of his bandaged hand. He wanted to take a shower but couldn't because of his injures. Wincing at the slight burning in his mutilated limbs, he muttered a cleaning spell over himself. Feeling a little better he tiredly lowered fell on the mattress and coiled up on his side, arranging his hands to lie next to his face. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his magical core, repeating the incantations in parseltongue. He didn't know how much time had passed when he finally stopped, as the slight tingling sensation spread over the burnt flesh. Sighing, he buried his face deeper into the pillow trying hard not to think about his master who was so obviously angry with him, disappointed in him. And the blasted sleep just wouldn't come to him.

Eridanus shivered as he felt a cool hand slide across his back and side and over his stomach to press onto his chest and pull him closer to the firm body behind him. The thin thigh pushed to rest between his and the warm heavy blanket was thrown over him. The long nose nuzzled into his hair and a kiss was placed onto his head. The hand caressed his chest gently, as the hot breath brushed against his neck.

"I am not angry with you, Eri, I am worried," Voldemort whispered and kissed the boy's jaw, inhaling his sweet scent, "I hate to see you suffer." Eridanus all but melted at these words. He whimpered quietly and turned his head to meet the lips of his master. Voldemort gently took one of his bandaged hands in his and pulled it closer to kiss it. Eridanus sighed contentedly as the pleasant cooling sensation spread over it. He wanted to say something but his master cut him off with another kiss. "Sleep, love," he whispered against his lips, "You need strength to heal yourself." He pressed the boy harder against his body and buried his face into the thick copper hair, closing his eyes. Eridanus instantly blacked out.


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, torture, violence, murder, underage sex, M/M slash._

_Another boring chapter is up. I swear I will get past this soon and will try to make the plot more dynamic and interesting. _

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His hands took two days to fully heal, the process of regenerating his skin back required a lot of energy and constant using of parsel-magic. Voldemort was most careful and gentle with his boy during these two days, he casted his own healing spells every morning and every evening, kissing the trembling bandaged limbs and holding the boy tightly in his arms. Eridanus thought he never felt so cared for in his life, he reveled in his lord's attention. He ignored the names he was being called though, knowing very well that he deserved it. His master was very angry with his recklessness, even if he said otherwise. But it was a completely different kind of anger that Eridanus ever experienced, it was one of worry, of fear. The Dark Lord who feared nothing but death was afraid to see him hurt, really hurt. Eridanus entertained the idea that, perhaps, he could injure himself from time to time to make his lord fuss over him more. It was his rotten luck, as usual, that he thought out loud, and Voldemort heard him. He was left without sex and any kind of physical contact, even torture, until the end of the week and THAT made Eridanus believe that his lover could really be cruel sometimes. He was leaving on sunday, it was already friday and he hadn't been touched even once since his hands healed.

Fuming, he angrily dueled Barty, not really comprehending the dangerous curses he fired, trying to cool his temper but it all was in vain. Barty had to hit him on the head with a snowball to make him come back to reality. Groaning, he waved him off and flopped down onto the snow ungracefully. This was unbearable. A true torture. Most sadistic punishment.

"I agree with our lord, he is absolutely right to be angry with you," he heard his father say. Eridanus turned to look up at him - the man was smiling at him warmly but there was no sympathy in his eyes. Rabastan was also angry with him for being so careless. He sighed and took the offered hand to stand up.

"Come, it's dinner time," his father patted him on the shoulder, "Barty, let's go."

The three of them entered the dining room and joined Rodolphus, who was already seated at the table, immersed in one of Fornax' journals. He looked much better, happier, now that Bella wasn't around, still being unconscious. Her injures were severe and her healing was going to take a very long time even if Severus brewed all the necessary potions. There were only four of them present, the base was deserted today. Voldemort wasn't going to join them, apparently, and Eridanus was ready to bang his head on his plate in desperation. Rodolphus winked at him sympathetically, putting his read away, as the food appeared on the table. However, before any of them could start, an unfamiliar man entered the room. Eridanus frowned at the hooded figure, but the deep rambling voice that echoed around them told him it was Fenrir Greyback.

"Ah, I'm just in time for dinner!" he pushed the hood of his cloak back, revealing a scarred tanned face.

His features were sharp and slightly distorted, looking more animalistic than human; pointed ears stuck from underneath the mop of unruly brown hair; wild amber eyes darted around the room warily, as the crooked many times broken nose sniffed the air. He gave them all a feral smile, barring his yellow sharp teeth, and plumped down on Voldemort's usual seat. They all exchanged a confused look but nobody said anything and soon the dinner was finished. Eridanus watched the werewolf out of the corner of his eye, as the man dismissed the utensils and grabbed the food with his clawed, hairy hands.

Greyback was famous for his cruel dictatorship over the werewolves of Britain, many joined him out of fear to be torn to shreds. He was one of the few who completely embraced his creature entity and eventually lost his human appearance, became a half-man half-wolf. It was said that his bite was venomous even when he wasn't completely transformed. Greyback was feared and hated in the wizarding world, he was a ruthless criminal, who disregarded morals and social codes, and Eridanus couldn't help but wonder just how the man imagined himself being accepted if he wasn't going to change. His alliance was, of course, significant and most advantageous - the werewolves were notorious fighters, were hard to kill and healed very quickly. However, Eridanus knew that only a handful of them would fight by Voldemort's side, for most of them were just the victims of unfortunate circumstances, lost their lives, their families, became outcasts, and were not going to die fighting for the dark side. People rarely became werewolves willingly, like Greyback had, and Eridanus couldn't help but feel wary of him. The man was obviously insane and unpredictable.

**xxx**

Later, unable to find his master anywhere, Eridanus settled down in the drawing room, draping himself over the sofa, and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't concentrate on any of his books, thinking constantly on how he was going to make Voldemort forgive him and at least embrace him once before he left for school. It was truly ridiculous how he became so dependent on his lover's touch, caress, kiss... His master often laughed at his affection and need for closeness, however, never missed a chance to indulge Eridanus in his wishes. But of course it wasn't only physical contact that he missed so much, cherished and desired, no, the deeper they developed their connection and their feelings towards each other, the more Eridanus realized he got addicted to Voldemort's personality, his presence. His soul hurt when they were apart, his heart ached. And right now he felt desperate, he thought he might even cry in despair - he loved the man madly, he could admit that easily now, and the mere thought that he could somehow compromise that raw wild magic that transpired between them drove him insane. Sighing, he closed his eyes resentfully and rubbed on his lightning bolt scar, craving the tender caress of his lover.

He sensed someone hovering over him and looked up sharply, only to meet the bright amber eyes of the werewolf. "Little lord Lestrange, what a rare luck to meet you here, alone, away from your overprotective lord," Greyback purred, smiling at him viciously.

"Mr Greyback," Eridanus greeted curtly, not moving from his comfortable position. He wasn't the one to cower at the sight of the animal, he lived with Remus long enough to get used to everything that entailed the "furry problem" as Sirius called it.

Greyback bent down, resting his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning closer to the boy's face. The child, that was almost a man, looked so appetizing, alluring. His relaxed inviting pose and bored uncaring expression of the beautiful face intrigued the werewolf, turned him on. He had been watching the little lord these past few days since he came here to pledge his alliance and couldn't help but feel attracted to the child. Despite being yet another haughty pureblood, the boy had this thick, overwhelming air around him, much like the Dark Lord himself had, he didn't act like others, he certainly was treated differently. He piqued Greyback's curiosity and his desire as well.

"Little rebel, I like you," he looked at him ravenously, licking his lips, "Such a proud, stubborn boy, stands up to the big bad Dark Lord, takes cruciatus as a joke, not at all afraid of the scary wolf," Greyback laughed hoarsely and inhaled the boy's scent deeply, closing his eyes in pleasure, "And smells like heaven." Eridanus raised an amused eyebrow at that, but didn't say anything, simply kept watching the werewolf calmly. The man stared back at him, narrowing his eyes slightly at the lack of any reaction. The boy was hard to read, hard to sense, which was a rare occurrence in the werewolf's presence.

Eridanus kept his emotions in check knowing very well that the werewolf could sense his mood and discomfort. Greyback smirked at his impassiveness and reached out with his big, clawed hand to touch his face. "I wouldn't do it if I were you," Eridanus drawled and sighed, feigning boredom.

"Oh? And why is that? Are you something more than just a sex-toy in the Dark Lord's bed?" the werewolf barked out a short laugh and cupped the boy's cheek, rubbing his rough calloused palm against the soft skin.

"My lord doesn't share, wolf," Eridanus batted his hand away lazily, but Greyback caught his wrist and pulled his hand to his nose, sniffing on it hungrily, and licked it, breathing harshly.

"You taste even sweeter than you smell," he growled and squeezed on the wrist, as Eridanus tried to pull away. Sitting up, he glared at the man and grabbed on his cloak with his free hand, leaning closer to his ragged face.

"I have an authority to punish you for your cheek, wolf," he hissed coldly at the grinning man, "And I am not as merciful as my lord."

"Oh, a fiery one, aren't you, I love it when they don't submit easily," Greyback purred and in a flash jumped over the sofa and straddled Eridanus, pinning his hands down to his chest. Eridanus saw red as he felt the werewolf rubbing his genitals against him through the thin fabrics of their clothes. He roared at Greyback's amused laughter and suddenly felt very hot and apprehensive, trapped. He felt his body burn and itch all over, and unwillingly transformed into the panther, startling the man, and threw him down on the floor.

"You're a fucking cat! Now that was unexpected!" the werewolf howled in laughter and crawled closer, swaying his furry tail that stuck from underneath his disarranged cloak. They both stood on their fours, glaring at each other, one hatefully, the other - lustfully. "Kitty, kitty, kitty," Greyback crooned at him mockingly and moved closer. The boy was indeed full of surprises.

Eridanus snarled warningly and climbed on the back of the sofa, watching the dog in front of him carefully. The werewolf would surely tear him to shreds with his inhuman strength, yet he hoped to at least claw his eyes out to teach him a little lesson.

"I never fucked a cat before, but I believe there is a first time for everything, don't you agree, pussy?" he smiled and leaped forward only to be thrown away and into the wall by a powerful spell.

"Don't you even think of touching my son, mutt," Rabastan hissed and pointed his wand at him, stepping closer to the panther. Greyback growled in pain, rubbing on his head and glared at the copper haired wizard angrily. "If I ever see you near Eridanus again, I would personally castrate you, do not doubt my word," Rabastan put his wand away and tagged on the cats fur to follow him out of the room. Eridanus jumped down on the floor and shifted back into his human body. He didn't spare another glance at the werewolf and left, walking closely to his father. It was embarrassing to hide behind his parent's back, of course, but he had never been so close to being raped by a werewolf before and he figured he was very glad Rabastan was there to save him.

**xxx**

"Please, be careful around Greyback, he is completely out of control and is not afraid of anything or anyone, not even our lord," his father told him softly, when they reached Voldemort's personal wing, where Rabastan escorted his son, not trusting to leave him alone for a moment. He carded his fingers through the boy's long hair and kissed him on the forehead gently. "He is known for his uncontrollable hunger and lust for the young boys and girls, he raped many, most of them never survived. Stay away from him and don't turn into the panther anymore, you would only tease him," he sighed as Eridanus enveloped him into a tight embrace, obviously seeking comfort, and nuzzled into his neck.

"I will stay away," he whispered. They stood in silence for some time, enjoying their contact, but Eridanus felt suddenly very uncomfortable and tagged on Rabastan's robes, frowning to himself, "What do they all want from me? I see that I am pretty enough, true, but so are many other wizards, and death eaters as well. Why is everybody so crazy about fucking me?" he mumbled desperately and his father hugged him tighter, shaking his head sadly at his son's misery.

"I am sorry you have to endure all this, Eri, I am afraid this is the price you have to pay for being with our lord. I went through the very same horror when I joined him," he whispered and kissed the boy on the forehead again. Eridanus looked up at him in surprise.

"Were you... did our lord fuck you?" he asked uncertainly, feeling very confused now.

"Of course," his father smiled at him sadly, "In those days he had already been an emotionless, bloodthirsty creature, lacked any humanity. He took every pretty looking man to simply indulge himself in his physical needs. And his every sex-toy was hated, envied, wanted by the others, it was always like that. Older death eaters told me that he used to seduce them before, when he was human, used to "court" them, play with them for his own sadistic entertainment, feigning affection, and discarding of them easily as soon as he got bored. This is why we were so worried at first when the two of you became so close," Rabastan stroked his son's hair, looking at him warmly, "We were afraid he was doing it again, was simply enjoying your youth and beauty. But do not fear, little one," he smiled at the boy's devastated expression, "He truly loves you, I can tell. He doesn't want anybody but you, you healed him, Eri, he would never hurt you intentionally. He did change."

"This is my biggest fear in life, that he would leave me," Eridanus whispered, looking at him with wide eyes, as his heart ached at the thought that all this, what they had, could be just a game.

"Don't worry about that," Rabastan laughed softly, marveling at how young and innocent, vulnerable his boy looked, "Our lord is too possessive to let you go, I am amused he lasted that long in his cruel punishment, can't imagine his suffering, although some of the lower death eaters got a vague impression of it," he laughed again and Eridanus couldn't help but give him a small smile in return. "That is why you must be very careful now," his father turned serious again, looking at him pointedly, "If I were you I would have told our master about Greyback's behavior towards you, he must be put in his place and nobody can do it better than the Dark Lord, who holds the mutt's life in his hands."

"Alright, I will," Erridanus nodded, but his face was miserable again, "That is, if he talks to me tonight at all."

"Eri, I doubt his patience is that strong. He would never find anybody like you, he knows that you are his most precious treasure," Rabastan kissed him on the cheek and pushed him through the wards and into the corridor, "Good night, son," he smiled and strode away.

**xxx**

Hesitantly Eridanus entered their bedroom and sighed sadly at its emptiness. His master wasn't here again. Groaning at the prospect of yet another lonely night, Eridanus fell down on the mattress and rubbed his face tiredly, muttering under his breath about the bloody werewolves and how he was going to brutally murder Greyback and violate his corpse afterwards. He felt like a coward, running away from a bloody dog in such indecent fashion, and he hated himself so much he felt enraged. Eridanus punched the mattress underneath him and greeted his teeth in irritation.

"You are in a fine mood, I see," he heard the amused hiss of his lover and jerked his head up harshly to look at him. Voldemort stood very close, hovering over his coiled body, and watched him mirthfully.

"Yes," Eridanus spat, feeling very angry, "That furry bastard was going to rape me tonight, although I doubt you are interested to hear the details," he dropped his head back on the mattress and crossed his arms on his chest defiantly. It took only a second for his words to sink in.

"What?!" Voldemort roared and was instantly on top of his boy, grabbing on his wrists and staring into his eyes furiously, "What had that mutt done to you?!" he hissed menacingly and forced himself into Eridanus' mind to look through the latest memories. Too tired to fight him and too happy to be touched again, Eridanus didn't struggle, helpfully bringing the latest events forth for his master to see.

"I will castrate the bastard and flay him alive!" Voldemort spat as he left the boy's mind and moved to go and do just that, but Eridanus pulled him back sharply and enveloped him into a passionate embrace, moaning longingly at their contact, as their darkness purred contentedly. He remembered his father's words and buried his face into the firm shoulder, sending a wave of love and desperate need to his master through their link. Overwhelmed with his boy's emotions, Voldemort embraced him back, pressing closer, biting his neck hastily, possessively, growling furiously all the while.

"Why have you turned into a cat instead of blasting him into the wall or turning his insides into silver?" he demanded angrily, pulling away slightly to look into the shining green eyes that were begging him for a kiss. He had to take subduing potions every three hours these past few days to be able to keep away from Eridanus, to punish him properly, so that the boy learnt his lesson and was more careful in the future. And now, the potion was simply useless, as he all but burnt with jealousy, lust, possessiveness and pleasure at the so long desired closeness.

"I couldn't control it, it was a primal instinct that kicked in," his boy said quietly, looking away resentfully, disappointed in himself. Voldemort frowned as he felt his self-hatred, "I believe it happened because the animal in me sensed another predator and the threat he posed." He was so devastated that the Dark Lord couldn't be angry with him anymore and dropped his head on the boy's shoulder, sighing, as the soft dear hands stroked his hair and back.

"It's not your fault, don't kill yourself over this," Voldemort muttered and kissed his throat gently, "But that bloody dog will learn its lesson tomorrow, it would learn what's it like to touch what is mine," he hissed menacingly and Eridanus sighed softly, feeling elated, excited. He took his master's face into his hands and drew him closer for a kiss. Moaning indecently, Voldemort deepened it, sucking hungrily on the lips and tongue... He prayed that he wouldn't have to punish his boy anymore in the future.

"I forgive you," he bit out hastily, when he pulled away to breathe and bite Eridanus on the jaw, "Now take the clothes off, I must put this energy and anger to some use if I am not going to kill the dog tonight," and his boy was already naked even before he finished the sentence. Groaning at the sight, he banished his own robes and assaulted Eridanus's mouth and anus, making him scream in pain and pleasure. He decided he would start teaching his boy elemental magic in summer, so that he could control himself and never gave his lord any reason to punish him so cruelly again. Celibacy wasn't an option when they had so little time together.

Greyback didn't show up again and Eridanus spent the last two days in their bedroom, satisfying his master, relieving the man's tension and hunger. Of course the time went by too fast for the two and once again Eridanus found himself at Grimmauld's, covered in hickeys and bites, looking thoroughly ravished. And he was. Smirking at Walburga's jealous expression, he turned to the mirror to brush his hair, waving to Remus, who came downstairs to take him back to school. They weren't going by the train, but flooing straight into his office, as it was the first day of classes. Eridanus took the potion Severus gave him, that would make him look weak and feverish, as if he was slowly healing after the dragon pox they had faked. Sirius came out of the kitchen, noting that they still could have their breakfast at home, and shook his head at the sight of his godson's neck. The boy only shrugged and smiled at him unapologetically and followed his godfather to the sound of werewolf's loud chuckles.

**xxx**

After Madame Pomfrey checked him and was satisfied with the results of his recovery, Eridanus obediently went to Dumbledore's office to have a talk with the old coot.

"So, how are you doing, my boy? That was most unfortunate that you fell ill on Christmas holidays," the headmaster said softly when Eridanus sat down in front of him, staring at the wall as usual.

"I'm doing much better, thank you, sir," he answered curtly. Dumbledore watched him intently, searching for something in his face, as his fingers drummed quietly on the surface of his desk.

"Severus went to check up on you quite often. He informed me of your progress. I am very upset you've missed the Yule Ball, it was such a success," the headmaster smiled at him endearingly and Eridanus barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. If only the old coot knew!

"A pity, really," he drawled, as the memory of his and his lover's dance clouded his mind. Pity, he had to wait for so long for another ball.

"I am worried about you, Eridanus," Dumbledore's smile faltered all of a sudden. At the boy's confused expression he sighed heavily and leaned forward to give him a grave look, "There had been a few small death eater's attacks recently," the boy nodded at that, smiling inwardly to himself - his father and uncle led those. "I am afraid Voldemort's powers are growing and soon he would let us know that he is back. You are in danger, my boy, and your powers grow dramatically as well, I must admit, I am concerned," the old man frowned and shook his head, "You have been practicing dark arts, haven't you?"

"Are you going to send me to Azkaban for this?" Eridanus asked, not at all scared. He knew what Dumbledore wanted - he wanted him to die in the battle along with the horcrux inside of him, so that his lord could be destroyed forever. And only the existence of other horcruxes ensured his safety for now. He wouldn't be harmed unless the headmaster finds them all and destroys them, and that meant he would never be harmed.

"No, no, of course not," Dumbledore hurried to placate him, "If you think this would help you defeat Voldemort than, I suppose, the end justifies the means... But, Eridanus, I have to warn you that it is very dangerous to play with the dark. It is addictive and destructive. Look at what it did to Voldemort, to his followers! You must be extremely careful," he watched the boy closely but Eridanus looked impassive and immersed in his own world, as he always was.

"I know, sir," he sighed, tired of all this nonsense and secrets Dumbledore thought he was keeping from his 'Savior', "But I still don't understand why do I have to fight Voldemort," he rubbed on his neck, frowning to himself. When would he tell him the truth already?

"He killed your mother," the headmaster noted and give him a speculative look, pursing his lips into a tight line.

"It's a good point, however, he killed many other mothers and I don't see a waiting line of those who wish to avenge them," he shrugged his shoulders uncaringly.

"He would be hunting you down in order to prevent you from fulfilling the prophecy," Dumbledore retorted, his eyes twinkled unpleasantly at the boy's stubbornness.

"There is a muggle saying: as long as you don't believe in something - it doesn't exist," Eridanus said dryly and stared at his feet, hoping that this inquisition would end soon.

"He believes in the prophecy, that much is obvious," the old man sighed tiredly. He couldn't fathom just why was the boy so adamant to disregard the prophecy, why was he so indifferent to his obligations. Perhaps, leaving him to be raised by muggles wasn't such a good idea after all, his morals seemed somewhat twisted. "You are too young yet, you would understand in time," the headmaster's gaze was hard despite the softness of his voice. Eridanus only nodded curtly. "There is one more disturbing matter at hand," he heard the older wizard mutter, "I am afraid Miss Weasley has gone missing."

At that he raised his head and feigned surprise, "Ginny? When?"

"On Christmas. Hasn't she told you anything about her plans for the holidays, or maybe a new friend she found?" Dumbledore asked and Eridanus found he couldn't decipher if the man suspected him or not.

"No, sir, she hasn't. She had been avoiding me since... since I revealed my name," he shook his head sadly, looking heartbroken at the news. The headmaster nodded gravely at that, stroking his beard.

"Her dorm mates told me she was actually going to ask you to take her as a dancing partner, I believe Molly didn't take the news of your parentage lightly, but Ginny seemed to look past the prejudices and names," he sighed dramatically, emphasizing the last words as if trying to show Eridanus that he shared the girl's opinion. "She was present at breakfast but after that nobody saw her. Her things were left untouched, her family has no idea where she might have gone, since she was to stay at the school with her brothers. We suspect she was kidnapped and, probably, is already dead."

"This is horrible," Eridanus rubbed on his chest and glanced at the headmaster worriedly. His act seemed to fool the man, as he gave him a grandfatherly smile and twinkled at him somewhat kindly.

"An awful tragedy," he agreed. "I am sorry to meet you with such devastating news, Eridanus. Let's hope for the best, that Ginny would come back soon, safe and sound." Yes, let's, Eridanus thought sarcastically, inwardly cackling in glee as he remembered watching her head rot and burn in the fire. "I hope you are getting better. Are you prepared for the second task?" Dumbledore abruptly changed the topic, smiling at him encouragingly.

"Yes, sir, I have already guessed the riddle of the egg and I am working on the way to complete the task," the boy nodded.

"Very well then, run along to your classes," Dumbledore shooed him off, watching his retreating back. The boy was falling deeper and deeper into the darkness' trap and he felt helpless at this point. Eridanus' stubbornness angered him, but he knew he was the one to blame for that. Interlocking his fingers he watched his old wrinkled hands, not really seeing them. Should he tell the boy that he is a horcrux now? There was no other way to sway him to the light's side, when he was so immersed into the dark already. But surely, he would submit to Albus' will when he finds he bears a piece of a murderer's soul inside of him?

**xxx**

The school seemed to be in a state of shock. Ginny's disappearance and constant rumors of her violent death unnerved the students and made them fearfully stare at each other in the corridors, walk in small groups and, of course, glare balefully at the slytherins. In the light of recent attacks and girl's disappearance they blamed the death eater's children for all the deadly sins. Surely, Ron thought that Eridanus killed Ginny, and was right as always. Eridanus entertained the idea that, perhaps, he should ask Voldemort to kidnap the annoying redhead as well and hunt and play with him together. The twins never said anything on the matter, clearly not caring at all. They've stayed in a constant correspondence with the Lestrange brothers during all this time and were invited to come to the fortress with Eridanus any time they felt they were ready. Seeing how well it seemed to work out, he advised them to approach professor Snape and talk to him about their inventions and plans. They could start their production at Hogwarts then, being supplied by the potions master. Draco told Eridanus all about how horrible and boring the ball was, and how he hated him for escaping the torture. Eridanus could only beg the blonde to forgive him. Theo and Blaise, who also missed the pitiful event, having left Draco alone with the slytherin girls, were present at the ball at the fortress and both gave the copper haired boy knowing looks and smug smiles. Everybody ignored Draco's demands to explain what was going on and the Malfoy heir didn't talk to any of them for almost two days, fuming at their teasing.

When february came to Hogwarts, Dumbledore announced that Ginny Weasley was now officially presumed dead, and the houses' banners of the Great Hall turned to black, honoring her memory. Students were devastated and frightened. Ron enjoyed the attention everybody was paying him, coming up to pity his awful loss, to pat him on the shoulder, to say a few compassionate words. He played a crestfallen heartbroken brother rather pathetically and Eridanus couldn't help but feel sick at the sight of him. The imbecile boy couldn't even take his sister's death fittingly, as a self-respected pureblood wizard should. And he was still struggling with the skin curse, however, the warts were gone, which meant he finally went to the hospital wing. The idiot.

The Durmstrang students started taking meals at the slytherin table and Krum often joined Eridanus and his friends - they conversed about quidditch, dark arts, dueling, their schools, their families, the position of the dark in other countries and everything else. Eridanus found Krum to be a nice company, as did the snakes and one day the bulgarian boy asked him if he could join the death eaters after he finished the school. Although nobody ever said Eridanus was one, Krum figured it out on his own. Eridanus was surprised with his inquiry and couldn't help but ask why. Krum told him he had been thinking about it for a long time ever since the rumors of Voldemort's return began, and now that he met Lord Lestrange and saw that the dark cause was quite reasonable and righteous, he realized he wanted to take his part in the changes that were to come. Eridanus told his master about this through their link and Voldemort promised to take him to Durmstrang in the summer to meet Krum and find more willing students to join their cause.

**xxx**

Karkaroff had been skillfully avoiding him all the time, but Eridanus didn't bother looking for him, he wanted to give the man an illusion of relative peace and safeness, deciding that it would be better to attack him again after the second task. It was to be held a few days after the Valentine's day. The 14th was also the only day Dumbledore allowed the students to visit Hogsmead - since Ginny's disappearance the village weekends were canceled until the end of the school year. They were to be escorted by their professors and were to return to the castle in two hours, which was quite enough for Eridanus. He thought about killing a muggleborn student just for the gist of it, to scare them all shitless. As he walked with his friends down the snowy hill, he heard somebody calling for him. He turned to see Cedric Diggory striding quickly towards him. Ever since the first task the boy had been watching Eridanus closely, had been practically burning a hole in his head during the meals in the Great Hall.

"Good day, Diggory," he greeted curtly, halting his pace.

"Hello, Lestrange! May I call you Eridanus though?" the blue eyed boy smiled shyly.

"Fine. What was it that you wanted, Cedric?" Eridanus drawled, glaring at Blaise who was looking back at him and wriggled his eyebrows at his companion, smiling slyly.

"Oh, um, just wanted to ask if you are ready for the second task? You have already solved the riddle, haven't you?" Diggory asked innocently, looking at him strangely, as if...

"Yes, I have and I am ready, of course," Eridanus replied dryly, tagging on his braid absentmindedly. He and Severus had already brewed all the potions they wanted and tested them out. Finally, Eridanus chose the simple one, that Severus suggested the first time, to his professor's smug delight.

"Oh, great, me too," Diggory bit his lower lip, not knowing what else to say and eyed the copper haired boy uncertainly. Eridanus kept walking, being silent and rather bored. "What are you doing at Hogsmead today? Would you like to join me in the Three Broomsticks?" he heard the boy mumble.

Arching his eyebrow he looked at Diggory incredulously, "What for?"

"Well, for a chat mostly, I... I've realized I never really talked to you before, never even noticed you, to be honest," Cedric rubbed his neck in embarrassment, ducking his head and blushing lightly, "You are always so quiet and modest. I want to get to know you, since we both are the school's champions," he smiled shyly, "We should work together to win."

"You can have the cup if you want, I don't care for the bloody tournament," Eridanus sighed exasperatedly, "I was forced into competition and I just want it to end. As for your invitation," he glanced at the hopefully looking Diggory speculatively, "I did have plans but I believe I can spare some time for a chat with you," the other boy all but danced at these words and, grabbing him on the arm, stirred him faster down the path. Eridanus wasn't sure why he agreed, he thought that, perhaps, Diggory wanted to ask him for help with the competition, though, that didn't seem to be the case.

They entered the pub and Cedric happily dragged him to the farthest table and sat next to him on the small divan behind it. Inwardly groaning, Eridanus felt he regretted his decision - this situation reminded him of Ginny too much.

"So, can you tell me more about yourself?" the blue eyed boy smiled at him brilliantly, pushing his short brown hair back. No, Eridanus thought, fascinated with the wooden pattern on the table before him, he couldn't kill Diggory, for the boy was a pureblood and a champion, his death would surely raise Hell they didn't need at all, yet. He sighed in disappointment.

"Nothing to tell, really, I am a dark wizard and the Savior of the Light," he rolled his eyes dramatically, playing with his braid. The other boy laughed softly at that and looked at him curiously, intrigued.

"You're too modest, Eridanus," he smiled and shook his head, "And I see nothing wrong with you being a dark wizard, all slytherins are but it doesn't make them evil," he shifted closer to him. Eridanus sipped on his butterbeer thinking about transfiguring it into whiskey for he needed something stronger right now.

"Are you involved with Malfoy?" he heard Diggory's tentative question. Staring at the boy in wonder, he barked out a laugh.

"Me and Draco? No, we are just good friends, he is my godfather's nephew actually, so we are, kind of, family," a flicker of hope and excitement could be seen in the blue eyes of the other boy and Eridanus inwardly growled. Was the idiot turned on by the fact that he was all dark and mysterious? It was just his luck again to be stalked by another victim of teenager hormones.

"So you are into boys," Cedric confirmed, biting his lips and sliding his hand over the table, closer to Eridanus'. More into dark lords, he wanted to retort acidly, but restrained himself. He didn't know if Diggory would share what he found out with anybody, so he needed to be careful with his answers.

"Whatever do you mean?" he drawled instead, downing his glass in one gulp.

"It's so hot in here," Cedric suddenly stood up, blushing fiercely, "Would you fancy going outside? A walk, perhaps?" Eridanus stared at him dumbly but nodded. He could easily loose him on the crowded street and proceed with his plans. They walked out of the pub and strode in silence for some time. Just when Eridanus thought to dart around the corner and disillusion himself to get rid of his companion, Diggory pushed him into the empty alley on their left and pinned him to the wall. Eridanus grabbed his wand just when the wet lips covered his and the other boy moaned, pressing closer to his body. Groaning in displeasure, he tried to push Diggory away, but the boy clung onto him, sucking on his lips and trying to push a tongue inside his mouth.

"You can't touch me," he growled lowly, pushing his wand into the tender skin of the boy's throat, forcing him to pull away.

"Why?" Diggory breathed out, panting, looking perplexed, "Are you seeing someone then?"

"I'm so bloody tired of everybody constantly trying to fuck me," Eridanus sighed in annoyance and stunned the befuddled boy, dropping his body carelessly on the dirty ground.

He felt so angry now, the itching burned underneath his skin, he felt his darkness craving blood. He glanced at his pocket watch - there still was an hour left, more than enough time for him to play. Disillusioning himself, Eridanus walked back to the crowded street and followed a small group of hufflepuff girls, that passed him. One of them was a muggleborn and he knew just the right place to take her to. He threw an imperius curse at the girl and made her wave her friends off and walk to the Shrieking Shack. The ministry idiots haven't sealed the house after what happened there the previous year and never placed any traps or wards around it. Eridanus covered its walls with blood once again, leaving only a head behind. He shrank and took the girl's remains with him back to school, deciding that Anguis deserved a small treat now and then.

**xxx**

In the evening he was called into Severus' office. Yawning and stretching, he entered and flopped down on the visitor's chair, ignoring his professors sneer.

"Do behave yourself, Eri, you are a slytherin and a lord after all," he drawled, wrinkling his nose.

"What did you want to discuss, Severus?" Eridanus smiled at him, and rested his elbows on the desk, putting his head in his hands and batting his eyelashes mockingly at the man.

"As you know there would be something taken and hidden from you in the second task," the potions master began, ignoring his antics, "This something is actually a person, someone you hold dear. Well, Minerva, who is responsible for informing and lately handling these people, is at loss, you see," he smirked evilly, "She doesn't know who do you hold dear. She thought it would be the Weasley girl, but since she disappeared Minerva needs someone to replace her for you to save. So she asked me to ask you and give her the name," he huffed and leaned back in his chair, smiling slyly at the boy.

"Oh, I see," Eridanus snorted, "This is going to be a problem, though, we can't put our lord in the lake, can we?" he laughed and Severus shook his head at that, trying not to chuckle at the image that popped into his mind.

"Just tell me any name, Eri. Don't you really have anybody here whom you like enough to save?" he smirked, not able to hide his amusement. As far as he knew him, the boy would have gladly burned the whole place down and watched the other students die in agony.

"I doubt you'd want to get all wet, besides, this wouldn't look good, would it, with all the professor-student code and all that rot," Eridanus drawled nonchalantly, picking on the invisible threads on his dark emerald robe. Severus leaned forward and looked at him intently, as his lips stretched into a smug smile.

"No, it wouldn't, unfortunately," he sighed and stood up, "Just choose one of your friends then, I'm sure Draco would love to be the center of attention, and to be saved by the famous Lord Lestrange," he came close to the boy to stroke his soft copper hair. Eridanus leaned into the touch, purring like a cat.

"Alright, let it be Draco then," he whispered as the hand caressed his face and slid lower, down his neck and onto his chest, and the cool thin lips sucked on the skin of his throat gently. "What kind of a deal are we talking about now?" he moaned as his professor bit him slightly.

"None, we are simply exploring the code you mentioned earlier," Severus breathed out, inwardly cursing himself for his weakness, but didn't stop. He kept away for so long, he couldn't take the potion so frequently to control himself all the time. He kissed the boy on the lips and groaned at the feeling of the hot tongue in his mouth. Eridanus rose up, pulling out of their kiss, and pushed his professor into his chair. Severus plumped down, staring at him confusedly, and the boy straddled him, tagging on the tight collar of his robe. He unbuttoned the shirt and caressed the pale muscled chest, biting his lips seductively. Severus moaned at the touch and grabbed on the boy's thighs, assaulting his mouth. "Would you let me touch you?" he whispered into the kiss.

"What would I get in return?" Eridanus shifted to rub his professor's erection.

"Whatever you want," Severus practically whined, as his cock pulsed painfully under the boy's weight.

"I will have to hold you on that one then," Eridanus moaned, sucking on his earlobe, "You can touch me, but carefully, Severus," he whispered and the hands on his thighs slid up to undo his trousers.

Instead of touching him, Severus stood up, pushing the boy's legs up to circle his waist and laid Eridanus on the desk, kissing him greedily, biting his tongue. He rocked their bodies together for a while as he devoured the sweet mouth and then moved away, to tag on the boy's trousers again. He puled them down along with underwear and kissed the hard flesh, drawing indecent whimpers from the other's lips. Stroking the long shaft with his hand, he sucked on the head, pushing his other hand into his pants to caress his own hardening prick. He felt Eridanus grab on his hair and tag on it harshly, urging him to deepen the contact. He took the cock fully into his mouth and slid down and up, moaning at the sweet taste of the boy's skin and sweat. Eridanus pushed up to thrust deeper into his throat, crying out in pleasure. He couldn't help but imagine his master in Severus' place, pretend that it was Voldemort's skillful tongue that teased his cock so cruelly. He was barely able to restrain himself from calling out his master's real name when Severus bit on the pulsing head and his cock jerked in painful and oh so pleasant release. Severus moaned loudly as he sucked his sperm, swallowing it hungrily. It also tasted sweet, so sweet he felt he was coming undone.

"Please, Eri," he begged desperately when he pulled the cock out of his mouth and stared at the boy pleadingly. Panting and moaning softly, Eridanus nodded and was harshly brought down on the floor, to stand on his knees. He looked up into the glazed lustful onyx eyes of his professor as he pulled down his clothes and took the pulsing prick in his hands. He stroked it gently and kissed the head just when it burst the hot semen out. Severus cried out hoarsely, forcing the boy's head to stay close, watching the sperm cover his face, as the long wet tongue licked on his cock. "Circe!" he chocked out, feeling the wave of pleasure wash over him. He watched the boy licking and swallowing his sperm and thought he was a dead man. He couldn't stay away from the boy and, as ill luck would have it, Eridanus was also attracted to him in some sick perversive way. He wasn't blind, nor was he stupid - he realized that the boy unconsciously used him as a substitute for his master. He might have desired Severus, but he wasn't kissing him, he wasn't licking him, he was doing it to the Dark Lord in his fantasies.

Eridanus stood up, cleaning his face with a spell and smiled at his professor somewhat sadly, as if reading his thoughts, "I value your life too much, Severus. I am afraid we both wouldn't be able to fight the temptation the next time, and you'll die because of it," he caressed his cheek and kissed him on the corner of his thin pale lips, "Besides, I can't stop thinking about my master, no matter how much I want you, I still see him. He owns me, I can't change that. Sometimes I think I was made for him, some unique design created to complete only him, and him alone," he laughed softly and Severus smiled at him understandingly. If the prophecy was true, the boy was really born specifically for the Dark Lord, and couldn't belong to anybody else. He sighed and caught the red lips in a gentle but passionate kiss.

"I know," he muttered when they parted. "But you are like a drug, you know that. I can't keep away from you," he scowled and Eridanus kissed him on the creased forehead.

"I'll think of something," he promised and left, gracing Severus with a soft affectionate smile.

**xxx**

The body, or rather the head, of Ashley Wilkinson was found the next day. That was the muggleborn's name, which Eridanus never asked when he had been strangling and ripping her open, of course. The minister was livid, he had stormed into the Great Hall during dinner and shouted at Dumbledore, spitting saliva around, turning purple in the face just like uncle Vernon used to, blaming him for everything that happened. They've managed to keep it quiet from the press but the parents, of course, found out about it the very same evening and the next day a few students were taken from the school to never come back. Dumbledore looked devastated when he was publicly warned by the Board of Governors, represented by Lucius and the board's Secretary, that should anything else transpire at the school that would jeopardize the lives of student body, he would be sacked immediately. Eridanus smiled as his master gleefully cackled in his head at this. It was decided to put the school on the lockdown again and station aurors in the area. Surprisingly, Alastor Moody volunteered to guard the students and was placed inside the castle to patrol it at nights. Eridanus felt excited at the news - surely the old wizard came here for him, to get his revenge. He would be ready.

**xxx**

The day of the second task met the champions with a cold wind and rain. Afraid that the water in the lake would be too cold for them to swim, most professors were jointly casting the warming spell on it, covering the surface of the black liquid with bubbles. Delacour was trembling in her light swimming suit and madame Maxime kept warming her up every few minutes. Krum stoically resisted the freezing wind, standing naked on the edge of the platform, wearing a pair of swimming trunks. Diggory, who clearly hadn't understood Eridanus' message when he stunned him a few days before, took off his clothes, to stand in his trunks as well and was staring at the copper haired boy expectantly, waiting for him to undress. But Eridanus only rolled his eyes, lazily braiding his hair into a thick tight plait. He wasn't going naked into the icy water, nor was he demonstrating his body to the hungry crowd of spectators - only his family and his dorm mates could see him undressed. And by family he meant the Lestrange brothers and the Dark Lord, of course. He stood in his plain black trousers and white shirt, both enchanted to stay warm even underwater. Blaise and Theo stood at the shore, close to the platform, smiling in him, anticipating Draco's reaction when he would be pulled out of water. McGonagall never told him or others what exactly they were going to endure as the chosen prizes for the champions, but Eridanus told his friends, of course, so that they could antagonize the blonde till the very morning he was to be put into stasis.

As Bagman blew a whistle, Eridanus immediately dived into the black water. He took his potion right before coming to the shore and had already grown the gills. The others stayed for a minute longer, casting the spells on themselves. Eridanus swam quickly through the long sticky algae, knowing the route already. He had tested the potions by swimming in the lake under Severus' supervision and had found the merpeople's village. He'd figured Draco would be hidden there. The local fauna was wary of him and didn't attack, letting him glide through every trap unharmed. The mermen hastily jumped away as soon as they saw him, scared to death. He had blasted a few of them to pieces in one of his previous trips and they knew not to touch him. Due to the awful weather it was very dark so deep down in the lake, his wand barely lighted up his surroundings, its glow drowning in the heavy cold gloom of the black water.

Closing in on the village, he noticed Delacour got tangled up in algae as a group of merpeople attacked her. He swam past, not caring in the least. He came closer to the prisoners, whose unconscious forms floated slowly in the water mass, roped to the heavy rocks at the uliginous bottom of the lake. It looked like everyone chose their "dear" ones randomly, except Delacour - the fair haired girl was obviously her sister; Krum chose a girl who came with him from the school; Diggory chose a hufflepuff dark haired girl from the sixth year. Smiling at Draco's innocently peaceful face, Eridanus moved closer and threw a 'diffindo' at the rope but it didn't cut. Huffing to himself, he threw the spell again, in parseltongue this time, and the rope split. He caught the boy's body into his arms and quickly swam back.

He emerged from underneath the black water and heard Draco come back to life and inhale sharply, staring fearfully around. Upon seeing Eridanus grinning face, the blonde started screaming profanities at him, to the great joy of their friends and spectators at the shore. He dragged Draco out of the water and Theo and Blaise wrapped him into huge plushy towels, casting the warming charms at the trembling, cursing boy. Eridanus kept laughing at him, as he took the antidote and his gills slowly disappeared. He was the first to complete the task - Delacour was pacing the platform hysterically, begging somebody to save her sister, Krum and Diggory returned only fifteen minutes later with their prizes. When the points were given and the scores were set, everyone hastily walked back to the castle to enjoy the feast in the warmth of the Great Hall.

Eridanus, however, stood behind, skillfully escaping Dumbledore who was watching him like a hawk. He wanted Karkaroff, now. Igor saw him and tried to discreetly run away but was caught by Eridanus' imperius curse. He followed the man to the ship and into his private quarters. When the door was carefully locked and the room was warded soundproof, Eridanus canceled the spell, smiling at the dark haired wizard viciously.

"What do you want from me?!" Karkaroff screamed and stared at the boy in horror, remembering their last encounter.

"You know what, Igor," Eridanus purred, forcing him to fall on his knees, "I enjoy watching you cringe and cower, snivel pathetically, beg for your life," he stroked his greying hair as Karkaroff shook his head vehemently, too scared to resist the cruel boy. Eridanus smiled at him softly and banished his clothes, leaving Igor's trembling body completely naked. "You are weak and miserable, my dear, but you were a very good boy, you helped me come so nicely the last time, I would like to thank you for that," he grabbed the dark hair into a fist and pulled on it harshly, drawing a cry of pain from the man, making him look up into the bright green eyes that burnt with hunger. His belt found its way around Igor's neck and was pulled tight, pressing slightly on his windpipe.

"Now, you would call me master, understood?" Eridanus asked him as Karkaroff scratched on the leather helplessly.

"Y-yes... master," he breathed out, squeezing his eyes in disgust.

"Learning fast, I see. Old habits do die hard," the boy laughed and tagged on the belt, "Take off my trousers and underwear but do not touch me," he commanded, grinning like mad, overwhelmed with the sense of power and control. He loved dominating, even though he always bottomed his master and played passive in bed. A curious thought popped into his mind, but he filed it away for a later consideration.

"Yes, master," Karkaroff whimpered pitifully and pushed the clothes down, revealing Eridanus' slowly hardening flesh. He tried to look away, but the tight grip on his hair held his head in place.

"Now, don't close your eyes or I will cut your lids off," Eridanus purred warningly, "Come on, touch yourself," he tagged on the belt again, increasing the pressure on the throat. Embarrassed and slightly sick, Igor obeyed. He stroked himself hastily, gaging at the sight of the boy's genitals and wheezing, as the belt kept being slowly pulled tighter.

"Little pathetic worm," Eridanus spat, watching him disdainfully, "I would take a great pleasure in getting rid of you one day, but for now, you would entertain me," he sighed and stroked himself slowly, pulling on the belt sharply to make the man choke. "Go on, kiss it," he leaned closer to place his cock at Igor's lips, "Do it, I would disinfect myself afterwards," he sneered, "And keep touching yourself," Karkaroff shook his head in denial, struggling for air.

"I can't hear you," the boy hissed.

"Yes, master," Igor chocked out as his face was pressed against the hard cock forcibly. He gaged and whimpered but kissed the head, vehemently tagging on his own flesh.

"Good boy," Eridanus purred, "Keep kissing it," he commanded and the older wizard complied, turning green in the face, trembling all over.

The belt was pulled tighter and he couldn't breath anymore, inhaling sharply and coughing against the pulsing head of the boy's prick. Starting to lose his conscience, Igor came hard, jerking violently - his face reddened and his eyes rolled back as a week wheeze escaped his lips. Eridanus pushed him back on the floor and helped himself to release the sperm all over the man's chest and stomach. Feeling lost and not really satisfied, which he blamed on the potion's aftereffects, he ennervated Karkaroff and threw a blood boiling curse at him and left him to writhe and scream on the floor for fifteen minutes. It would have been much more satisfying to make the traitor bleed but he couldn't kill him until the end if the tournament, not with a horde of aurors sneaking around anyway.

**xxx**

Moody had been watching him closely for the next month but hadn't made any move yet. He simply stared at Eridanus in the Great Hall, burning a hole in his head, stalked him on his way between classes, library and common room, but never approached him. Like a hunter he was studying his prey to deliver the most efficient attack later. But so was Eridanus. He turned into the panther one night and followed him secretly to his quarters. While the man slept, surprisingly tightly, the boy inspected the healing potions that Moody was taking. He was going to be a few steps ahead of his opponent by slowly poisoning him. With his unlimited access to Severus' laboratory, and the twins' help Eridanus soon prepared an untraceable poison that was to strike Moody's vital organs and prevent his magic from healing him. The twins were the ones who compromised his potions while the ex-auror was sitting behind the bookcases in the library, boring his eyes into the back of Eridanus' head, while the boy calmly wrote his charms essay. Voldemort didn't call for Eridanus' presence at the missions, so that, during the time of the random attacks that death eaters made, he was always seen at Hogwarts by both Dumbledore and Moody.

The Dark Lord and his boy talked every day through their link and every night before bed and often fell asleep in each other's arms in Eridanus' mindscape, that Voldemort liked so much. However, Eridanus felt that it was harder and harder for him to stay away from his master, the separation was hardly bearable now. He sincerely doubted he would be able to come back to Hogwarts after a whole summer spent with his lover.

**xxx**

The Dark Lord finally summoned werewolves for their first mission in the middle of april, when it was only a month left until the third and final task of the Triwazrd Tournament. Greyback had been avoiding him all this time, of course, but couldn't ignore his call, since he was bound by a magical vow. The five werewolves kneeled at the snake-man's feet, not looking into his cold blood red eyes that were practically flaying them alive. They were to find the free werewolves and force them either into neutrality or into servitude, those who were going to oppose the Dark Lord were to be eliminated.

"Stay behind, Fenrir," Voldemort called after Greyback when his four companions left the hall.

"Dark Lord," the wolf bowed and narrowed his amber eyes at the figure that sat in front of him. He couldn't help but feel disgusted with the man's appearance, it was hard to believe that this gaunt, ugly looking, scaled creature could have so much power and could enslave hundreds of men, could enslave someone as powerful and beautiful as little lord Lestrange. Greyback wondered how exactly Voldemort forced the boy into faithfulness since the little lord wasn't afraid of him, nor was he afraid to be tortured.

"We have an unfinished business, you and I," the Dark Lord began, tilting his bald head slightly as his long bony fingers caressed his white yew wand, "Back in january you tried to rape the young Lord Lestrange. Usually, I don't care for what is going on in my follower's lives and I care even less for who fucks whom, but you see," he stretched his lipless mouth into an ugly parody of a smile that made Greyback's insides freeze, "Lord Lestrange isn't just a follower, he belongs to me, completely, and no one can touch him," he glared at the wolf furiously, as his blood began boiling in his veins. How long he dreamed to make the mutt scream, to punish him for his disobedience... but revenge was certainly best served cold, he thought, as he licked his lips in anticipation.

"So the little slut prostrated himself at your feet and made his complaints? Surely, he isn't that valuable," the werewolf asked incredulously.

"Eridanus is not a slut," Voldemort clicked his tongue in annoyance, "But my lover. And much more valuable than that little brain of yours allows you to imagine. No one questions his status, no one dares to touch him. Those who are stupid enough to try end up dead or in coma, like one particular witch in the hospital wing," he stood up and began circling the wolf, with his hands folded behind his back, twirling the wand playfully.

The furry man watched him warily but couldn't help it and chuckled mirthfully, "My lord, surely, he is just a toy," Greyback grinned, barring the yellow teeth, "How can he, ah, love you?" his eyes were full of mockery and disbelief, as he looked at the dark wizard's ugly face.

"Ah, but my little one sees past my appearance, Fenrir," Voldemort smiled cunningly and gave the mutt a pointed, hateful look, "He is such a wise child, reckless, of course, but so sweet."

Greyback raised his eyebrows at that and scoffed, rolling his eyes, "I'm sure," he coughed sarcastically. The boy was sweet, true, but he surely couldn't submit to be fucked by THAT willingly.

"Oh but he does, he does," Voldemort's face contorted in a vicious glee and he pointed his wand at the wolf, "Crucio!"

Greyback was too slow and the curse hit him straight in the chest - he fell down on the floor under the intolerable pain. He had endured cruciatus many times but the Dark Lord's was particularly painful, it hurt horribly, and most of all in his head and in his genitals. He screamed and howled, thrashing on the floor, telling himself that it was bound to happen sooner or later, that the little sniveling brat surely ran to his master for protection. Voldemort kept circling him, intensifying the curse, shuddering in pleasure as the wolf started scratching on himself in a pathetic attempt to lessen the hurting. Canceling the spell, he watched curiously as the mutt whimpered hoarsely, caressing his bleeding groin.

"You see," Voldemort conjured a silver cage around him and came closer to lean against the bars, "Eridanus was the one who found me and helped me resurrect, and he wasn't even a follower, he was a Harry Potter back then, a poor eleven year old orphan," he smiled fondly at the memories and Greyback shuddered at the repulsive expression that appeared on the man's face, "Eridanus is not just a lover, not just a follower, you must understand," the blood red eyes locked with the amber ones and darkness constricted the werewolf's throat, choking him. He tried to free himself from the hold, but couldn't. Struggling for air he stared at the Dark Lord who suddenly began changing, his snake face shifted into a young, stunningly beautiful one.

"Fenrir, Fenrir," Voldemort shook his head, "I told you, the child is wise, he chose me himself, he made me what I am, he gave himself to me willingly," he smiled charmingly but his eyes were hard and cold, they promised death. "And when he tells you that you shouldn't touch him, you must obey, for he is your better," Voldemort chided and looked at Greyback thoughtfully, as if considering something. The wheezing werewolf watched him in fascination and horror. The Dark Lord was absolutely irresistible, he all but reeked of power, sex, pain and pleasure, lust, and if he were honest with himself, Greyback couldn't decide who was more intimidating and dangerous: the snake like looking creature or the alluring youth that stood before him now.

"I promised my little one I would castrate you," Voldemort drawled nonchalantly, looking at his fingernails, "But you would get over it eventually, or would simply commit suicide. None of the options suit my plans for you, wolf," he hissed venomously, looking up at Greyback whose insides froze again under the icy, cutting glare. He wasn't a coward, never cringed before anybody, but now he wasn't so sure anymore.

"I could have had you raped, of course, but that would not suffice," Voldemort smiled viciously and pointed his wand at the trembling man, "So I've created a spell specially for you, you should be proud," he cackled madly and hissed an incantation in parseltongue. At first, Greyback didn't feel anything, but the gleeful expression that marred the beautiful features of the Dark Lord told him that he was going to suffer. A lot. He shifted and tried to stand but fell down with a loud howl of pain - his genitals were bleeding and hurt awfully. Whining and crying he tried to rub on his prick to lessen the pain but it made it only worse, it burnt inside, burnt like hell, just like... silver.

"Yes," Voldemort drawled pleasantly, "Your filthy cock is full of silver. It will hurt constantly, but every time you would try to fuck someone the silver would spread through your body, weakening and killing you. The process is painfully slow, it might take years, that is, if you subdue your sexual hunger, of course," he smiled indulgently and tapped on the cage with his finger, "I will let you stay in here to regain your strength after cruciatus. Rest now, wolf," he pushed a stray lock behind his ear and closed his eyes dreamily, turned away and left, humming contentedly to himself. Greyback stared at his retreating back in horror and swallowed hard. Now, he thought, he regretted mocking the rumors about the insane Dark Lord, regretted siding with Voldemort at all.

**xxx**

Eridanus and the three other champions followed Bagman outside of the castle, under the supervision of three aurors, along with Moody. They were to be informed of their third task at the pitch. Lucius had already sent him all the details, so Eridanus was walking slowly, quite bored, staring at the dark blue sky, looking for the first stars to appear. Moody walked behind him, growling lowly to himself - the poison started working, no doubt destroying his liver already. The boy turned as somebody tagged him on the sleeve - Diggory again. The idiot couldn't understand "no" apparently. If it wasn't for constant supervision and the fact that he was a champion, Eridanus would have already killed him, or crucioed him into insanity.

"What?" he muttered.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Diggory whispered, looking at him with wide wet eyes. Eridanus rolled his - he dearly wished he could just tell everyone that he was taken by Voldemort so they could piss off.

"Because I don't fuck boys," he barked and everybody turned to look at the fiercely blushing hufflepuff. He hastily walked forward, averting his eyes.

They reached the pitch where Crouch Sr was waiting for them. The green hedges of the maze had already grown a few feet in height.

"So lads, and ladies," Bagman waved his arms enthusiastically, "As you can see the third task would be the magical maze. You will have to reach the center of the maze and touch the Triwizard Cup, the first one to do so would be the winner!"

"Would there be any traps on the way?" Delacour asked something so obvious that Eridanus couldn't stop himself from scoffing.

"Of course, sweetheart," Bagman beamed at her, "Traps and dangerous magical creatures you've all covered during the years of studying at your schools."

"The maze would be ready in a month, so the task would be held on the fifteenth of may," Crouch drawled, looking bored to death. Eridanus could relate to that so well.

"Oh, Mr Lestrange, may I have a word with you?" Bagman called out when they all turned to leave. Sighing, Eridanus nodded and halted his pace to walk by the man's side. "You see, I've been making bets," Bagman whispered conspiratorially, "And the Weasley twins are adamant that you would win. What can you say, what are your chances?" he stared at the boy impatiently. Eridanus only shrugged his shoulders.

"Fred and George are usually right and very lucky," he said uncaringly and waved the man off. Uncle Vernon used to bet all the time and Eridanus hated gambling ever since he lived with the Dursleys.

He heard one of the young aurors ask about the prize. "No, the winner gets a thousand galleons and his school gets the Cup," Crouch explained. The blasted thing was going to be a portkey for Voldemort and death eaters. Whoever touched it was going to be transported along with it to the small island not far from Plymouth, and from there the Cup was going to transport the Dark Lord and his followers back to the quidditch pitch of Hogwarts. The most difficult part of the plan was to make the cup portkey a hundred men without the necessity to hold on to it. His master had been personally working on that during last months and the Cup was already charmed and set for the right time to be activated. In case it didn't work, Eridanus asked the twins to draw a map for him that would show all the possible secret passages for the death eaters to enter through. Voldemort chose the one that led from Shrieking Shack to Whimpering Willow and so they had their plan B ready as well.

**xxx**

The sound of activated floo brought Severus out of his musings and he stood up sharply, turning the fire off and putting the cauldrons into stasis. Only Dumbledore had the audacity to floo straight into his office uninvited. Scowling, he angrily slammed the door behind him and looked around - nobody was here, however, the hidden door into his private quarters stood ajar. Alarmed, he drew his wand and slowly approached it, and entered his small living room. Somebody sat in the winged armchair next to the fireplace and held a glass of brandy in his hand. But before Severus could curse the imprudent bastard, he was stopped by a familiar soft voice.

"Should I take a de-aging potion or would you take me like that?" Rabastan's face appeared from behind the back of a chair, brightened by a cheeky lecherous grin.

"How did you get here?" Severus muttered, trying to school his gobsmacked face into an intimidating mask of fury and failing miserably. This smile was just so much like Eri's and so much more.

"Apparently, you never cancelled the connection between here and Grimmauld's and I took advantage of that little dereliction," the copper haired wizard smirked and leaned back into the armchair, sipping his drink. Severus slowly came closer and lowered himself into the opposite chair, watching Rabastan intently. He and Eridanus were truly twins, the only difference between them was the eye colour and a slight weariness that seemed to linger in the older man's features after twelve long years of imprisonment.

"I could spell my eyes green, if you'd want me to," Rabastan gave him a small knowing smile and crossed his long legs, smoothing the invisible wrinkles on his very tight trousers. Severus swallowed hard.

"What is the meaning of this?" he managed to growl, trying very hard not to stare at the red lips of his smirking guest.

"I know of your little problem, Severus," Rabastan leaned forward, speaking softly, suggestively, "I know you want Eri, but you can't have him, and quite frankly, I would hate to watch you die because of your awakened desire. Rodolphus would surely suffer if he loses his dear friend." He finished his drink and banished the glass, eyeing the potions master speculatively.

Severus' face heated up in anger and sudden arousal. "Are you suggesting you came here to play a whoring substitute for your son in order to heroically save my life?" he hissed menacingly and stood up sharply, averting his eyes from the long lean body in front of him.

"If you would accept me as a substitute I wouldn't resist it, however, I came here as a friend and as a man with his own hunger and desire clawing at his soul," Rabastan growled and also stood up, glaring at Severus in a strange mixture of hurt and need, "I know what Eri sees in you, I know what he likes in you - I've always seen and liked the same, but you were so smitten with that bastard Regulus Black all the time, you were unreachable for me," his speech became passionate and he looked so young and vulnerable all of a sudden, that Severus couldn't help but stare at him in bewilderment and... pleasure. It wasn't every day he heard somebody was lusting after him for years, somebody as beautiful and mysterious as Rabastan Lestrange. Being close friends with Rodolphus Severus barely knew his younger brother, for the man was always too quiet, too cold and distant, he always observed and never initiated any kind of contact. But now that he thought about it, he could clearly recall Rabastan's strange intensive looks that he received every time they met, only he had completely misread their meaning back then. He shivered in unexpected anticipation as a hand was gently placed on his chest.

"I did not come here for my son, Severus, he doesn't know I am here. And I am here for myself and for you," the vibrant blue eyes locked with the onyx ones, "I want you. Take me as I am or tell me to leave and I would never approach you again. I do not wish to force you." Rabastan lowered his gaze and stepped back, turning away from the potions master.

Severus caught his breath. He had heard the stories of Rabastan's endless lovers and victims, of his cruelty and ruthlessness in bed, of him enjoying raping both men and women before killing them. It was hard to imagine this quiet, emotionless, angelic looking man to be a heartless sexual predator. The only glimpses of passion and life Severus ever saw in his eyes were when Rabastan dueled or spent his time with Eridanus... and now. He and Eri were so much alike, their faces, their bodies, voices and mimics, everything was mirrored with a meticulous accuracy and yet Severus couldn't bring himself to see Rabastan as a substitute, not really.

"I don't believe you," was his quiet reply. Why would someone like gorgeous irresistible Lestrange want someone like Severus?

"I had and still can have any pretty wizard or witch there is, Severus," Rabastan sighed and looked at him sadly, longingly, "But it's not what I want. I want somebody strong, brilliant, fierce, independent, uncontrollable, wild, passionate... like you. I always wanted you, but Regulus was first." He closed his eyes resentfully and pursed his lips into a straight line. Severus exhaled slowly, burning with desire to kiss these lips, to make them stop doing this, to keep them warm, to worship them.

"I still don't believe you..." the words came difficultly, reluctantly.

"May I try and persuade you that I speak the truth?" the blue eyes searched his face uncertainly.

When Severus didn't answer, Rabastan reached out and touched his pale face, tracing the curves with his fingertips. He moved closer, startling the potions master with the heat, that radiated from his body, and placed his other hand on the broad chest, cladded in black teaching robe. Severus felt his pulse hasten its pace as Rabastan leaned even closer and placed a chaste kiss onto his trembling lips, pushing his hand into his black hair. Involuntarily his mouth opened and an eager tongue lashed inside to taste him. Severus couldn't help but moan. Rabastan tasted sweet and bitter, just like dark chocolate. A lot like Eri only even more intriguing, more mature, more alluring. His hands circled around the narrow waist on their own accord and Severus pulled the man closer, to bask in his heat and enjoy the hard bump of erection rubbing against his own. Rabastan's hands tagged on his robe, struggling through the endless buttons and finally found their way onto his bare skin. Severus pulled away from the other's mouth to inhale harshly, as the remaining oxygen seemed to leave him. Lestrange groaned at their parting and started kissing his jaw, tracing the skin all the way down to his throat and Severus tilted his head to grant a better access. His head spun and his mind was clouded with such fierce lust and want, he realized he was growling as his hands were helplessly trying to undress his partner. He heard Rabastan laugh softly against his neck and in a flick of a wrist they both were suddenly naked.

"Would you take me?" the strong arms circled Severus' neck and a hard sweaty cock pressed against Severus' equally hard and pulsing one.

Lashing out to claim the red lips he could only moan a weak "Yes" in response. His last coherent thought was that Rabastan was actually bottoming him, letting him dominate for the first time in his life, since Regulus always was the one to take and never give anything in return. If this was a bribe or a trap, Severus didn't care, he was willing to take it all.

The next day slytherins actively discussed the way professor Snape had looked at the morning's double potions lesson. He clearly overslept, his clothes were a mess, his hair weren't greasy but very clean and soft and disheveled, and his eyes burned with pleasure every time he got lost in his own thoughts. Eridanus was the only one who didn't stare or took part in the gossiping. Smirking slightly, he inwardly patted himself on the back for being such a smart arse. He promised Severus he would find a way to deal with their little problem and so he did. All he had to do was to accidentally let it slip in his letter to his father that Severus never closed the floo connection to Grimmauld's in case Eridanus would have to flee from the school. And that was it, everything else was in Rabastan's hands. It was truly ridiculous how thick Severus could be sometimes, even Eridanus noticed the way his father was looking at the snarky professor - it wasn't hard to guess why, he was sure he and his father had the same interests and preferences and definitely both found Severus most exquisite and alluring. And if Eridanus couldn't have him he was going to give him only to Rabastan, besides, his father deserved to finally get what he wanted for so long. He was sure the two men would keep each other happy and occupied, and safe, and that was all he wanted, really. He had his personal Dark Lord to please.

**xxx**

It was so hard for Eridanus not to double and fall off his chair in laughter at the news, that he had to wandlessly hex himself. Karkaroff got into the hospital wing two days before the last task of the tournament. He tried to commit suicide but failed, of course, the useless moron that he was. The idiot was too afraid of physical pain and tried to poison himself, only he forgot he lived next to Severus Snape who, certainly, had the antidote at hand. The news were spread at the breakfast by the Durmstrang students, who didn't look particularly worried or scared. Krum told the slytherins that although Karkaroff was their headmaster, he, in fact, did nothing significant except signing letters and orders. Students mostly ignored him or openly despised, because of his treason. The actual authority at the school was represented by the Deputy Headmaster and Dark Arts professor Voronov, whom Eridanus knew to be one of the Middle Tier officers. Well, when Igor died the man would surely get a promotion and, possibly, a higher rank, after Voldemort visited the school personally. Voronov was young and ambitious, talented, loyal - he was a worthy follower, Eridanus thought that much. It was said that Karkaroff would get better in time to attend the third task and Lord Lestrange rubbed his hands in anticipation. Dumbledore went as far as asking Severus to give Igor Veritaserum in order to find the reason behind the man's attempt to end his own life. The potions master managed to fool the headmaster and in the end Igor told them he was ashamed for all the crimes he had committed and couldn't bear hating himself anymore. Those were the words implanted into his mind but Dumbledore believed them.

The last two days were spent in slow meticulous preparation. Severus checked the Cup, the maze, the spectators tribunes - everything was to be set according to their plan. Eridanus checked the secret passage underneath the Weeping Willow, clearing the Shack from the alarms and wards the aurors had finally decided to put on it. They were not taking any chances of failure.

The morning of the final task Voldemort spoke with Eridanus briefly, they barely exchanged a few words - what was the point in talking if they were to see each other in less than eight hours? They simply checked with each other if everything was set as it was supposed to. The Dark Lord didn't wish his boy luck - he was absolutely certain Eridanus never needed it, he had it in his blood.

**xxx**

Blowing a kiss to a sulking Karkaroff, who almost chocked to death at the display, Eridanus turned to face Bagman at the entrance into the maze. Lupin stood beside him, patting him on the shoulder. He, McGonagall and Hagrid were the supervising teachers to react in the case of emergency. Looking around and seeing that nobody was watching him, Eridanus tagged on Remus's robe and whispered into his ear, "As soon as you hear the signal that the Cup was taken I suggest you discreetly find Siri and take him away from the pitch, preferably into the castle and stay there." The werewolf looked at him confusedly at first, but then a spark of understanding flashed in his amber eyes.

"I understand. Neutrality, yes," he whispered back, nodding reluctantly. He hated to stand aside and watch Voldemort start the war all over again, but he had no wish to fight him either, to fight for the Light that wasn't any better than the Dark, not after what they did to Sirius.

Bagman announced the names and the scores of the champions and stirred each one of them to the entrance. Eridanus had the highest score - he was to enter first. As soon as he found himself in the dark mist of the maze, he took out his wand and performed a point-me spell. Having determined the direction that would lead him to the Cup, he quickly strode forward. It was eerie quiet, the air itself seemed to be thicker, heavier. Eridanus didn't know for how long had he been walking but nothing seemed to stand in his way as he followed the pointers of the spell. A sudden loud shriek made him stop abruptly. It was somewhere near which meant there was a creature ahead of him. The cries sounded a lot like Delacour and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at that - the girl was really useless, veela blood was probably her only advantage. While he stood there, huffing, he felt something started crawling up his leg; as he looked down he saw it was the Devil's Snare, trying to squeeze his limbs and break his bones. One 'incendio' later Eridanus was on his way further into the maze. He saw Delacour lying in the pile of slime and Devil's Snare rods. The slime looked disgusting and smelled like acid. He didn't take Hagrid's Care for Magical Creatures anymore, but his fellow house mates told him about the monsters the half-giant made them grow specifically for the tournament. The blast-ended skrewts.

He shielded himself just in time to deflect the venom that shot into his back. Turning around he faced the giant scorpio-hybrid that tried to sting him. All that he knew about the creature was that it was immune to most offensive spells due to the shiny armour that covered its body. Well, he would have to use something different then, wouldn't he? Eridanus drew his wand and, canceling his shield, with one quick swish of his arm threw the skrewt high up in the air, much higher than the hedge, and simultaneously threw a 'sectumsempra' aiming for the beast's unprotected underbelly. However, he threw the spell in parseltongue and its effect was most impressive. The skrewt was slashed multiple times across his body and all his insides fell out, splashing black thick blood around. Eridanus threw 'reducto' next to blast the creature's remains in the air. If he could hear the audience, he would have heard the cries of horror and disgust at the display of a giant scorpio being maimed and disemboweled up in the air by an invisible force. If he could see beyond the hedges, he would have seen Dumbledore sigh gravely and grip at the edge of his seat helplessly. The old wizard knew too well who was responsible for the terrifying show.

Striding forward, Eridanus took his Death Eater robes out of his pocket. Judging by the pointers he was almost at the center of the maze, it was time to change his clothes. He banished his tournament robes and started dressing slowly, taking his time. He heard somebody run past him, muffled sound of distant spell firing, but he paid it all no heed, concentrated on what was going to happen as soon as the Cup would be taken by one of the three of them. Feet shuffled somewhere near him again, on the opposite side of the hedge. Frowning, Eridanus buttoned up and slowly approached the narrow passage. A slightly burnt Diggory appeared from around the hedge, pointing his wand with a shaking hand. Seeing Eridanus unimpressed face, he laughed in relief and dropped his arm.

"Oh, Eridanus, it's you! I thought it was another skrewt," the blue eyes boy waved at his face with nasty burns covering his left cheek, "Wait, what are you wearing?" he suddenly noticed Eridanus' black thick robes, that screamed professional dueling. "Why have you changed into fighting robes? Surely, there would be no one to duel in the maze," he hiccuped nervously and cowered slightly at the cold, impassive gaze of the other boy.

Eridanus pushed his thick heavy braid back and threw the hood over his head to cover his hair, "I have no time conversing with you, Cedric, I have some business to attend to," he brushed past the bewildered teenager and followed the pointers.

"Wait!" he stopped and clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Are you mad at me for being so persistent in coming at you?" Cedric came from behind and touched him on the shoulder, "I am sorry for that, I just like you very much," he gave a tentative smile which Eridanus didn't return.

"Let's talk about it after the tournament is finished, alright?" Eridanus growled and shook his hand off. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed three huge acromantulas crawling towards them and he pushed Cedric a little aside. "There is a spider behind you," he smirked and jumped into the nearest passage just as one of the acromantulas threw its sticky cobweb onto the startled boy. Having left the annoying hufflepuff to deal with the spiders, he casted the point-me spell once again and followed the pointers, putting his mask on. It was either him or Krum now, and since the seeker knew of his loyalties he had no point in hiding. He slowly turned left and found himself face to face with a sphinx.

"You are a very strange child," it tilted its lovely female head and looked at him curiously. Its body was sprawled before him, blocking the way, her tail swayed ever so slightly, however, being a wild cat himself, Eridanus knew very well that it was a sign of weariness and tension - the beast was ready to attack that instant.

"Ask away," he offered and took a deliberately relaxed pose, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why are you wearing a mask?" the sphinx narrowed its eyes.

"Would the answer to this question grant me a pass forward?" Eridanus smirked and the woman's face smirked back, although her claws came out of the soft paws.

"You are a riddle which I seem to have a problem solving," the beast growled and slowly rose, watching the boy intently. "I am going to give you a riddle of my own, and you either walk away, or give me an answer. If your answer is correct - you will pass, if it is not - I will attack."

"Figures," Eridanus sighed exasperatedly, "Go on, then, I don't have all day."

The sphinx frowned and narrowed its eyes suspiciously. "At night they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?"

Eridanus pursed his lips, giving it a few seconds to sink in, "The stars, I suppose," he drawled and smirked at the disappointed beast.

But when he moved to pass by it, the sphinx growled menacingly and hissed, "You are not passing. I will give you one more riddle, child."

"Fire away," Eridanus sighed in irritation. If the bloody cat won't let him pass soon he would simply rip it open, as much as he loved challenges, this one had the worst timing.

"Hmm," the sphinx hummed and, closing its eyes for a moment, opened them and smiled slyly, "If you break it - it does not stop working, if you touch it - it may be snared, if you lose it - nothing will matter."

At that Eridanus stalled a little, scowling at the last line. What was so precious that nothing could matter when it was lost? He didn't notice that he left his mind shields open for his master and jerked violently at the sudden soft chuckle in his head. "_Think, little one, you posses it, and I posses it as well, although many would say otherwise_," his tone was mocking and yet very gentle. Eridanus couldn't help but smile. "_Stay out of my head, Tom, I don't need your hints to get past some petty cat,"_ he laughed as his master growled at him and turned to the perplexed looking sphinx.

"It is a heart," he smiled triumphantly and the beast shook its head in dismay. It moved aside and let him stride past it, watching his back through the narrowed eyes. However, Eridanus halted his pace and turned to the sphinx, before walking around the corner. At its inquiring look he smirked at the beast, "My master sends you his regards and a riddle for you to solve.

_What does man love more than life_

_Fear more than death or mortal strife_

_What the poor have, the rich require,_

_and what contented men desire,_

_What the miser spends and the spendthrift saves_

_And all men carry to their graves_?"

The sphinx perked up at that and took on a far away look. Smiling, Eridanus walked away, following the pointers. A few moments later he entered the center of the maze and saw the Cup standing on the small pedestal. Just when he wanted to tell Voldemort that it seemed like he was going to be the one to bring him the Cup after all, Cedric Diggory jumped out of the opposite passage and stopped abruptly, staring at the death eater in front of him. After a few seconds of assessing the robes, the blue eyed teenager put the two and two together and his eyes widened in terror.

"Eridanus?!" he cried, drawing his wand, "Why... what... Are you a death eater?"

"No, I am attending a masquerade ball at the ministry later this evening," Eridanus huffed and drew his wand as well. He heard Voldemort's chuckles in his head.

"Stay where you are!" Cedric warned, his eyes wide and full of hurt.

"Oh for Salazar's sake, you were the one who told me not all the slytherins are evil, Cedric," Eridanus laughed at his obvious pain and stepped closer, "Regardless, you are an unexpected witness and a liability, you will have to be eliminated," he smiled and wordlessly disarmed the teenager before he managed to pronounce the spell. He then grabbed his hand and accioed the Cup. In a whirl of Eridanus' black robes they were pulled in and dropped at the the shore of a small island, surrounded by the endless black water. Cedric tore his hand from the other's grip and scatted away, glaring at the boy fearfully, and suddenly he bumped into something firm behind him. Trembling, he slowly looked up only to see the horrifying image of a smiling snake like creature above him.

"How nice of you to join us this fine evening, Mr Diggory," Voldemort hissed and cackled and only when he heard more cackles did Cedric realize that behind them stood a hundred of other death eaters, laughing at him. Eridanus rose up, picking up the Cup, and took off his mask for a moment, to give the others a feral grin. The death eaters cheered him and Voldemort smiled at him softly, lovingly, since his back was turned to his followers and they couldn't see his face. Only Cedric could and gulped at the horrifying visage.

"Would you wish to leave him here, or should we just kill him?" the Dark Lord waved his hand at the still cringing and trembling teenager at his feet.

"He had been most annoying, my lord," Eridanus bowed and put his mask back on, "_Oh, and he wanted to fuck me, so, I suppose, it is not my place to decide his fate_," he smirked cunningly and felt the heat spread all over his body as his saw the maddening fury and jealousy in the blood red eyes of his lover.

"Did he now?" Voldemort growled and looked down at the blue eyed boy, who started shaking his head in horror but couldn't force a word out of his constricted throat - the Dark Lord's darkness lashed out and strangled him. In a matter of twenty seconds the last shuttered breath escaped Cedric's lips and he died. Clenching his fists in anger at the most unsatisfactory killing, Voldemort pushed his corpse away with his foot and it rolled down the slope and into the cold black water. The Dark Lord would have preferred to crucio him into insanity but, alas, he had more important task at hand.

"Everybody get ready!" he barked at the crowd behind him and all the death eaters straightened and took their stances. Nodding approvingly, he turned to Eridanus, "Activate the portkey."

Eridanus smiled and tapped the Cup with his wand and whispered, "Flight of death." A faint blue glowing spread around them and they vanished into the thin air.

**xxx**

As soon as the blue sparks emerged high into the air from the center of the maze, indicating that the Cup had been taken, the crowd broke into deafening roar of cheering and applauding. Seeing that it was his chance, Severus nodded to Lupin and they have exchanged their positions, Severus guarding the exiting passage and Lupin running towards the tribunes to take Sirius away from the upcoming show. The judges started walking towards the clearing in front of the passage, while Bagman was making an announcement that Delacour had fallen and was taken into the hospital wing and Krum was severely injured and it all led to the conclusion that one of the Hogwarts' champions won.

Moody limped closer to the exit, glaring at Severus with his magical eye, "What's taking so long? The exit is a straight path from the center to the clearing! We must go and check if Diggory is injured, I wouldn't put it past that red haired rogue-"

"Excuse me, are you implying that my student would have the audacity to play unfair?" Severus sneered at the ex-auror, trying to buy some time - the death eats needed the clear pass through the maze, letting Moody inside would ruin the 'grand entrance' their lord had planned.

"A slimy slytherin and a son of a Lestrange?" Moody barked out a laugh, although it was quite painful the potions master noticed. The old wizard grimaced and wheezed in pain, but continued, "Fifty galleons he disarmed and knocked the boy out to get the Cup and is trying to set up the false evidence now."

"I hate to disappoint you, Mr Moody, but they are only children, they are not the crafty dark wizards you are used to catching. Besides, you are not an auror anymore, so back away and show some patience," Severus rolled his eyes exasperatedly at the affronted wizard. But before Moody could retort and accuse the snarky professor of being the one he wanted to catch for so many years now, the loud bang distracted him and the others in the clearing. A second later a wave of invisible force blasted them all away and into the tribunes. A dead silence fell over the pitch only to be broken by a terrified cries when the tall menacing figure of Lord Voldemort slowly stepped out into the clearing, flanked by the countless death eaters. As planned, Severus instantly rushed to Dumbledore's side and helped him up, but never drew his wand.

"What a wonderful evening, ladies and gentlemen!" Voldemort exclaimed and everybody fell silent all of a sudden, watching him in horror and trepidation. "I see you are all quite shocked to see me here tonight," he smiled, assessing the crowd, his long sharp teeth shining ominously in the bright light of the bonfires. "I apologize for coming here uninvited, bit it came to my attention that you all thought me to be dead and I couldn't let such injustice continue any longer, now, could I? You've been fooled," he waved his hand towards Dumbledore and aurors, that circled him and the death eaters, who were simply watching, waiting for a signal, "You were fooled by the Light. You were promised peace and happiness, but those are unreachable for you," although he spoke softly and calmly, his voice was amplified by the silence and the thickness of the air filled with fear. "I am back and I will take what is mine by right. The Dark will take what belongs to them by their rights," Voldemort glared at the spectators, his blood red eyes gleaming menacingly, promising pain. "No one is safe anymore. Stand aside and accept us or die!" he laughed coldly after that and the high-pitched sound of screams and wailing echoed around the pitch. Hell broke loose, as panicked wizards and witches started running towards the exists only to find them blocked by the death eaters, who spread around the perimeter, following Eridanus through the other parts of the maze.

Aurors were the first to start firing. Voldemort easily deflected their spells, lazily waving his wand and looking bored for all the world. The Middle Tier stepped forward and took on the aurors, while the others were intimidating the crowd. Severus told Dumbledore he was going to try and evacuate children and the headmaster simply waved him off. The potions master found Lucius in the crowd of spectators and together they discreetly escorted all the slytherins and some of the ravenclaws down the tribunes and through the passage between the locker rooms. The guarding dark wizards let them through and they silently walked the death eaters' children to the castle.

Eridanus sought out Karkaroff and disarmed him, only to grab and drag him in the midst of the golden masked wizards, who circled him, laughing cruelly. In the end he decided that the worst death for Igor would be under the wands of those whom he betrayed. They had to torture him one by one for small periods of time, changing their positions in order to deflect the spells that were being fired at them by aurors and ministry employees and some of the daring wizards and witches. Out of the corner of his eye Eridanus saw Barty running after his father with a knife in his hand - Crouch Sr wasn't going to see another day. Voldemort was dueling three members of the Order, while Dumbledore was slowly making his way through the panicked crowd hysterically rushing about. His master gave him specific orders not to intervene when he would duel the old coot and Eridanus had to reluctantly obey. Occupied with his musings he barely dodged the spell that was thrown at his back. Turning, he smirked, as he saw Moody a few feet away from him with his wand drawn.

"Take off your mask, you, coward!" the ex-auror roared throwing a blasting curse at his face, but Eridanus easily deflected it. He dearly wished to comply but knew better than take a bait. He glanced back at his master - Voldemort and Dumbledore were finally dueling each other. He was wary to leave his lord to face the headmaster alone but yet another curse was thrown his way.

"Where is Lestrange?" Moody shouted, though his voice was much weaker now, the poison took its tall on him.

"Which one?" came a mocking reply from behind Eridanus' back and he turned a little to meet the eyes of his uncle. Rodolphus stepped to his side and smirked at the old wizard.

"Would you like to take his other eye or would you let me do the honors?" he smiled at his uncle and heard Moody's furious cry, as the ex-auror had realized who was standing in front of him. He started firing a spell after spell at them both, they simply dodged and sent weak hexes in return. Rodolphus had read in his nephew's mind that the old man was poisoned and now they simply waited when his strength would leave him. It was a fine revenge in Rodolphus' opinion, since he had to endure twelve years of torture in Azkaban, and now Moody was going to get just the same. Fueled by the active usage of magic, the poison rushed through his blood and attacked his heart. Startled and suddenly weak, Moody fell on his knees, as he felt the hastily pulsing muscle being gripped in a deadly vice. Clawing at his chest he breathed hard, staring at the two golden masks before him, into the blue and green eyes, that were watching him coldly, impassively.

Rodolphus raised his wand and, pointing it at the cringing man, sneered, "I think I would take that eye after all." He halted a little, pretending to aim better, and sent a very precise cutting hex, that sliced right through Moody's healthy eye and drew a wild cry out of his throat. Clutching at it, trying to stop the bleeding, Moody fell down on the grass, howling in pain, as all his insides were set on fire by the poison. Eridanus smiled contentedly and turned away to cover his uncle's back while he started crucioing the old wizard.

He watched the battle that kept raging before his eyes. Aurors and other light wizards were clearly outnumbered by the death eaters, since most people were simply afraid to go against them, not after Voldemort's warm greeting. His father fought two members of the Order, whom Eridanus never knew personally, but heard their names: Shacklebot and Jones. Rabastan gracefully dodged their spells and kept cursing Jones, since she was evidently weaker than her companion, and the dark skinned auror had no other choice but to try and shield her, spending his power in vain and loosing focus. Eventually, Jones lost her right arm and was left to fight off the horde of hungry, blood thirsty rats, while Shacklebot tried to set the dark wizard on fire, but Rabastan kept transfiguring fire into water, and finally turned it into acid and pushed it back onto the auror. His screams were a sweet caress to Eridanus' ears.

"No avada kedavra for you, old bastard, slytherins take out slytherins with their loyal blades," he heard Rodolphus growl and turned to see him taking out their family dagger. His uncle grabbed the barely breathing, bleeding Moody by his thinning hair and jerked his head up. The old wizard couldn't even raise his hands to struggle, the poison was already killing him. Rodolphus plunged the blade into the throat and slowly dragged it across, causing the wizard immense pain, watching in satisfaction as his blood poured out onto his chest. Rodolphus used the dagger once again to take the glass eye out of its socket and pocketed it as a souvenir. Eridanus shook his head and laughed at him - he didn't want to know what his uncle intended to do with it. Rabastan came closer and, after throwing a disinterested look at the maimed Moody, turned to his son, his eyes burning brightly with the excitement of the fight.

"I think you should go back into the maze, we've opened two exists, we are retreating soon," he squeezed Eridanus' shoulder and stirred Rodolphus back into the fight.

He turned to look at his lord - Voldemort was still dueling the headmaster, they both wore expressions of concentration and grave determination. Eridanus couldn't help but worry for his master. That stupid heart of his kept beating madly and was almost jumping out of his throat. Breathing deeply to calm himself down he obediently ran back into the maze, for he was to be found there after the battle. Banishing his mask on his way, he transfigured his robes back into the champion's set and threw a few cutting hexes at himself, to make it look like he was at least tortured. He fell on the ground next to the cup and smeared some mud and dust all over himself. While doing it, he noticed a body behind the pedestal. Frowning, he got up and came closer - Cedric Diggory, his cold wet corpse must have caught the glow of the portkey and came back with them. Sighing and thinking that even in death the stupid boy managed to annoy him, Eridanus dragged his body to lie next to the Cup and dried it. He disactivated the portkey and put one of the Cup's handles into Cedric's hand, the other in his own and took an uncomfortable pose of somebody who had been knocked out and left to die. Breathing slowly to calm his pulse he reached out for his master - Voldemort wasn't even tired, nor was he nervous, he was deadly calm and composed, concentrated. He hastily let go of him, wary of disturbing his lord and closed his eyes, waiting for the fight to end.

**xxx**

He must have dozed off, for he woke up with a start when somebody touched him. Luckily, it was Severus and he gave Eridanus a few seconds to compose himself and feign unconsciousness.

"I am afraid Mr Diggory is dead, headmaster," he heard Severus drawl, "Mr Lestrange is alive, but unconscious."

A rustle of robes around him told Eridanus that there were many people around them now. He squeezed his professor's hand ever so slightly and Severus, having taken the cue, brought a small vial to his nose. Eridanus stirred and opened his eyes, groaning loudly as if in pain.

"My boy, my poor, poor boy!" a tall man with a long beard came running and fell on his knees next to Cedric's body. Cradling it in his arms he cried, chanting his son's name. Eridanus watched them, feeling perplexed. It never occurred to him before, but there was a possibility that one day his own father would find himself in the same position... Would he cry over his dead son? Would he cradle Eridanus and kiss his lifeless lips and eyes that would never open again? What would Eridanus do if he had to face his father's corpse? Tom's? No, this was too much, he couldn't allow himself even think that Tom might die. He shivered violently, suddenly feeling his heart falling down into his gut. He clutched at Severus' robes, looking at him with wild scared eyes. His professor raised his eyebrows but otherwise hadn't shown his confusion. He grabbed the boy into his arms and lifted him up.

"I will take Eridanus to the hospital wing," he told the others, casting a featherlight charm on his student.

"How? How he died?" Mr Diggory's shaking voice caught Eridanus' attention.

He turned his head to look at the broken man and quietly said, "He wanted to share his victory with me. We decided to take the cup together. It portkeyed us into the middle of nowhere, where we both were tortured. Voldemort strangled him," everybody flinched at the name and Dumbledore closed his eyes tiredly. He nodded to Severus to take the boy away and came closer to put a hand on the shaking shoulder of a grieving father.

**xxx**

Remus and Sirius were waiting in the hospital wing. They both stood up sharply at the sight of battered Eridanus being carried in the potions master's arms but the boy smiled at them both reassuringly and shook his head, indicating that he was alright. Breathing out the two men walked over to the bed he was placed on and stood at one side, while Severus played his role of treating Eridanus. It was their luck that Pomfrey was occupied with taking in more and more injured people and didn't pay Eridanus any heed. Severus soon turned to help the mediwitch and Sirius took his godson's hand into his.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking into the boy's eyes worriedly.

"Of course I am," Eridanus huffed and grinned at the man. "I am glad you both stayed away," he gave pointed looks to both Sirius and Remus, and the werewolf smiled at him sadly.

"There are too many injured," he muttered, frowning.

Eridanus squeezed his hand and looked him straight in the eyes, "Remus, they didn't attack the crowd, only those who fought back. People got panicked, they injured themselves while running like mad instead of keeping away and simply waiting. Do not feel guilty because of their own stupidity. Were you there, there would have been just as much injured plus one dead body, your body," he spoke calmly but his face was twisted with anger and determination. Blinking the tears away, Remus nodded and squeezed his hand back. Sirius put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I hate it too, Remus, but Eris is right, we would have changed nothing, only would have made it all worse," his voice trembled ever so slightly but he believed his own words and Eridanus felt proud of his godfather. He knew it was very hard for him to accept this situation, but he did it just as nobly as a true pureblood would, as a reasonable man would.

"You both are unharmed, that is all that matters to me," he smiled at them, while trying to reach out for Tom, but the man's shields were up.

The three of them turned at the sound of many voices as the bodies of Cedric, Moody, Karkaroff and a few more wizards and aurors were brought in to be sent to St Mungo's morgue. Karkaroff was maimed beyond recognition, only the remains of his traditional red Durmstrang robe gave out his identity. The Inner Circle paid him for all the twelve years he spent behind the thick walls of the school, living in peace and quiet under Dumbledore's protection. His skull was fractured - a deep blooded hole filled with shuttered bones and mashed brain was where the face used to be. Remus and Sirius turned away sharply, gaging at the horrible sight. Eridanus had to pretend he was disgusted as well when Dumbledore came in and walked straight to his bed.

"Eridanus," he said softly, however his eyes were very hard and his posture radiated anger, "How are you feeling?"

"I am fine, sir, thank you. Professor Snape gave me potions. I am good to go, I feel like I am occupying a bed when it is needed for somebody who is injured worse than me," he replied, looking at the man innocently and sadly but this time it seemed Dumbledore wasn't going to buy it.

"Tell me did you or did you not blasted the skewt at the maze?" the headmaster was practically growling.

Sirius perked up at that, "Headmaster, excuse me, but Eridanus had just came back practically from kidnapping, his friend was killed in front of his eyes and you are asking him about some bloody skewt?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth to put Lord Black into his place but was cut off by a voice behind his back, "I did it, sir, it was me who blasted the skewt," Krum moved closer to the bed and gave Eridanus a small wry smile. His right arm was bandaged and hang at the awkward angle.

"Are you sure, Mr Krum?" Dumbledore narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"Of course, headmaster," Krum nodded, looking at him confidently, "Those were the spells from our fourth year curriculum, they are quite easy to perform" he lied smoothly, knowing too well that Eridanus used some unknown curse that was too dark to be studied at school, but Dumbledore didn't know it either, so they had a good chance that he would eat their story. And, apparently, he did.

"I see." He turned his head to look back at Eridanus, "Can you tell me anything else about the portkey and Voldemort?"

"I am sorry, sir, I cannot, I was crucioed and lost my consciousness just when the Cup was activated to take us back into the maze," Eridanus shook his head and frowned, looking at his hands that were clutching at the hospital blanket.

"I see," Dumbledore sighed heavily and rubbed his face.

"May I take Eridanus home?" Sirius asked, "I don't suppose you would hold any more classes or examinations."

"No," Dumbledore shook his head and adjusted his glasses, "We wouldn't, of course. All the children would go back to their homes eventually and I think that it would be best if you took Eridanus away as well." Before he could add anything else, Bagman hastily approached Eridanus and threw a bag of gold onto his bed.

"This is your prize, Mr Lestrange, a thousand galleons," he mumbled nervously, staring at the boy fearfully. It was said that the Lestrange brothers took part in the attack and now the man felt wary of the young lord. He wanted to ask something but had to back away and leave under Sirius warning glare. Eridanus took the bag and sighed, shaking his head. When Dumbledore moved away to check on Severus' and Pomfrey's progress he smiled at Krum and winked at him conspiratorially, "Thanks, Viktor."

"You owe me this awesome spell," Krum winked back and walked away to his fellow schoolmates who were waiting by the doors of the hospital wing.

"Well, we should be going home then," Sirius patted him on the hand.

"You go ahead to Remus' office, I'll be there in a few minutes." After the two men left, Eridanus wrote a small thank you note for Severus and sent it to his office. While he tried to untangle his hospital robe, he was assaulted by two pairs of identical hands.

"Eri, you're alive!"

"We thought you died in there!"

He turned to smile at the twins and they both enveloped him into a tight embrace. Blushing, he pushed them away, "Stop that, idiots," he hissed, glaring, but they only laughed at him. "Here," he pushed the money bag into Fred's hands, "It's yours now," he growled and smirked at their flabbergasted expressions.

"But...but..."

"But..."

"...we can't take it..."

"... it's yours..."

"Take it, I have enough money to live several lives, besides, I want you to take them and buy yourselves everything you want, treat yourselves, you deserve as much for helping me," he shook his head and finally managed to get the blasted robe off.

"Thanks, Eri," George breathed out, "I don't know how to thank you..."

"Don't." He smiled. "Take it and use it and we're even."

He groaned in frustration as he was once again enveloped into a tight double embrace.

**xxx**

Eridanus woke to a sensation of familiar cool hands caressing his face. Stirring and purring at the touch he shifted closer to the warmth that was concentrated next to him and whispered meekly, "Tom." He heard a quiet laughter over his ear and shivered as a hot breath tickled his skin.

"Wake up, my little one, it's time to go home," he gasped as the soft lips placed a kiss onto his scar and a wave of pleasure and power washed over him. Reaching out blindly he grabbed on the broad shoulders and pulled his lover into a passionate embrace. "Eri," Voldemort growled playfully and bit him on the earlobe, making the boy laugh and kiss him on the cheek. "Get up, or I will hex you."

"Only if you kiss me," the boy mumbled and the Dark Lord shook his head, smiling at him fondly. He leaned closer and kissed the red lips that parted almost instantly, inviting him in. Laughing quietly, he pushed his tongue inside and their kiss deepened, and they both moaned at the so long missed feeling of each other. Voldemort explored every little spot of the hot, sweet mouth he wanted so much, that made him loose his self-control every time he found his way inside it. Eridanus pressed him even closer than it was possible, and Voldemort groaned in pleasure. His boy could turn him into a puddle of mush with one simple embrace. Eridanus suddenly laughed into their kiss and his lord pulled away, smiling at him in bewilderment.

"What's so funny?"

"I imagined their faces if we kissed back there at the pitch," Eridanus smirked.

"Another kink of yours - kissing in public?" Voldemort snorted. His boy laughed again and pecked him on the nose. He then finally opened his eyes and looked around sleepily. He was in his room at Grimmauld's and the Dark Lord was lying on top of him, looking at him in affectionate irritation. The memories of the previous day flooded his mind and suddenly the image of Diggory mourning his son appeared before his eyes and he clung to his lover desperately, willing it to go away.

"What is it now?" Voldemort muttered but his eyebrows creased in slight apprehension as he watched the green eyes loose focus slightly and flicker with pain and fear.

Eridanus hid his face in the crook of his neck and let out a shuddering breath. "I was afraid yesterday," he whispered and inhaled his master's scent deeply to calm himself.

"What were you afraid of?" his lord asked incredulously, pulling away to look into his eyes.

"Of loosing you," Eridanus frowned and looked at him uncertainly, "When you were dueling Dumbledore I couldn't help but feel apprehensive, nervous, I barely restrained myself from rushing to your side and trying to help you, to shield you..." he trailed off, helpless, unable to find the right words.

Voldemort sighed and looked away, scowling, "This is what attachment does to you, you loose control, you rush into action without consideration," he hissed angrily and tried to pull away from their embrace, but Eridanus held him tight. He dragged him down again and pushed him to lie on his back, rolling on top of him.

"Tom, do you have any idea what would happen to me if you die?" Eridanus glared at him and his voice had such a hard edge to it that Voldemort flinched a little. "Do you have the slightest idea? I would loose myself, I would loose the only reason of my life and I'm not talking about the bloody prophecy or the damn horcrux, don't give me that fucking look!" he was growling louder and louder, pinning his lover down into the mattress, his face contorted with fear and anger. "I go to this petty idiotic school only because of you, because I know you need me there and I can't just disappear while you haven't established your reign completely. I am alive because of you. I want to live because of you. I don't need anybody but you in this whole pathetic world. You are me, you are mine and loosing you would be like dying the most painful death that is possible," he spat the last words with hatred and pure horror and attacked Voldemort's mouth in desperation and need of reassurance, grinding his hips between his lover's, pressing into his body like his life depended on it.

The Dark Lord felt the overwhelming power of the boy's possessiveness and love and worry through their link and felt his own heart being gripped in a vice. He eagerly answered the passionate and violent kiss and pushed his hips up to meet the boy's growing erection. These complex emotions Eridanus was talking about had been the bane of his existence these last few months. He tried to banish them away, to ignore them, to forget them, but feeling them all over again right now, being dragged into them by his boy, made him realize that he, too, was afraid. He wasn't afraid that Eridanus could get hurt, he was afraid that he could loose his little one or that the boy could loose him and get lost. Eridanus was an intelligent, powerful, strong willed individual but he had one awful disadvantage that was the corner stone of the whole prophesy-destiny matter - he depended on his love towards the Dark Lord, he couldn't live without the one he loved so much. Love was his drug and was his curse. And Voldemort had to, reluctantly, painfully, admit to himself that it was his own weakness as well. His only weakness.

He rolled on top of Eridanus and pulled away from his mouth, panting and staring intently into bright wet green eyes that he saw every night in his dreams. "I know," he breathed out, "I know and I love you and you would never loose me," he whispered and kissed his boy again, feeling as the body underneath him trembled in relief and joy.

He tagged on Eridanus' trousers and pulled them down with one hand, taking out his hard cock with another, and pushed roughly into the boy's anus, kissing away the scream of pain and pleasure, that came out of Eridanus' chest. Thrusting in harshly he let go of the swollen mouth and pushed himself up on his arms, to watch Eridanus body rock fast and hard against him. The boys legs circled his waist pulling him closer, deeper with every thrust. Eridanus moaned and called his name, clawing on his neck, his burning avada kadavra green eyes never leaving his blood red ones. How he loved this, how he loved taking this hot tight body, how he loved his little one, who was so eager to love him back, who loved him for what he was and loved everything about him. Rolling his eyes back in pleasure he hastened his pace to Eridanus' pleading cries to go faster and harder. Strong arms pulled him down into a ravishing kiss as he all but hammered himself into his boy's arse, slapping painfully against his soft buttocks. They both came screaming, he felt his cock shudder and pulse maddeningly, being constricted by the hot soft inside, as his semen filled Eridanus.

They both had missed the sound of the door being opened. "Oh fuck! Oh no!" Sirius stood at the threshold, looking pale and completely gobsmacked at the sight of the Dark Lord, cladded in his thick heavy black robes, pumping in his godson's naked hide, growling his name while the boy screamed for more.

Voldemort turned his head to glare at Black but the effect was ruined by his position and hot flushed face, sweated, with his curly hair sticking to his cheeks and forehead, with his lips swollen from kisses. "Would you mind?" he managed to hiss and before Sirius could find strength and wit to say something, Eridanus pulled his lover back into the passionate wet kiss, moaning indecently, and shut the door into his godfather's face with a flick of a wrist. Sirius stood frozen with a tray of food in his hands, that he was going to offer his godson. The sounds of loud groaning and slaps of flesh against flesh brought him out of his stupor and he hastily ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, blushing fiercely. At Remus' questioning glance he simply shook his head and gulped down several cups of tea to calm himself down.

Half an hour later, Eridanus slowly came down to the kitchen, walking carefully, aware of his burning and stinging backside. Sirius gulped at the sight of him looking completely ravished, lips bleeding, neck covered in bites and bruises. Remus looked between the two of them in confusion but when he saw the Dark Lord appear at the threshold, looking slightly more presentable than the boy, he instantly understood what happened and hid behind his newspaper, trying to cover his stupid grin.

"Er.. well, I am going to the fortress, so send patronus if there is any emergency," Eridanus mumbled, looking down at his bare feet, feeling terribly awkward that Sirius of all people caught him being fucked into oblivion.

"Black, do I need to obliviate you or would you start acting normal?" Voldemort greeted out, looking smug despite himself, and Sirius shook his head, staring at him and his godson, still replaying what he had seen in his mind.

"We like it... rough," Eridanus croaked awkwardly and chuckled at himself, mirrored by Remus, whose hands shook so much his newspaper was rustling loudly.

"Alright, when will you be back?" Sirius found the strength to ask.

"Don't know, will owl you," Eridanus shrugged his shoulders and looked at his lord, who only licked his lips and gave him the dirtiest look he could master. The boy blushed and Sirius hid his face in his hands.

"Let's go, Eri," Voldemort tagged on the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him into a heated embrace and they vanished into the thin air.

After a few silent minutes, Remus folded his paper and laughed, watching the moving picture of the ugly creature like looking Voldemort speaking to the audience, "I wonder if they tried to have sex when he is in this form," he covered his mouth with his hand, as tears of mirth rolled down his cheeks. Sirius' ashen gobsmacked face was just priceless.

**xxx**

"I found my new kink," Eridanus heard his lord purr into his ear, when they landed on the thick carpet in the study, "Fucking you in front of the audience," the hot wet lips covered his already aching mouth, devouring it in another possessive kiss.

"Let's try it when you will be taking over the ministry, I am sure Fudge would appreciate the show," Eridanus laughed when they parted for air and batted his eyelashes at Voldemort's playful glare.

"Why, we can try it much sooner, when I take you on the mission, perhaps," he purred suggestively and smiled smugly when Eridanus jerked excitedly at the news, staring at him in anticipation and hunger. "Yes, first we will go to Durmstrang and then you will accompany me on a few small errands in Europe, my little one," he licked the smiling red lips and was instantly pushed down on the carpet and straddled by his impatient, ravenous boy.

"You spoil me so much," Eridanus sighed dramatically and tore the black robes open, sending the buttons flying all over the room, "However," he caressed the pale well toned chest, kissing the sensitive nipples, sending pleasant shiver down his master's spine, "I doubt I will ever get used to your," he pushed the clothes away, tagging on the trousers, setting the hardening erection free, "Generosity," he took the cock into his mouth and sucked on it lustfully, moaning in delight. Voldemort groaned at the sight, unable to speak coherently. Now that Eridanus was here, he knew he wouldn't be able to leave their bedroom in the next few days, or a week.

Carding his fingers through the long copper locks he stroke the boy's head gently, thrusting his hips up to meet the hungry mouth, to push his cock deeper into the hot throat. He marveled at how their sex could be both gentle and violent, sweet and dirty at the same time, how satisfying it was, breathtaking if he was honest with himself. Having had dozens of different partners in his life, Voldemort never thought it would be possible to feel such intense pleasure with only one person for so long. Perhaps, it really depended on the feelings they had for each other? Perhaps, love did make sex into an entirely new form of religion? For he wanted to worship these lecherous red lips that did wonders to his cock, he wanted to make bloody sacrifices to this body that drove him to the verge of insanity. Their love felt sacred, as if Voldemort possessed the very essence of God... and maybe he did, he thought, crying out Eri's name as a destructive wave of sheer pleasure and orgasm knocked him down, depriving him of the last clear thoughts. He closed his eyes in delight and intense satisfaction, when the hot mouth found his and the long teasing tongue brought his own taste in for him to enjoy. When their lips parted, he heard Eridanus sigh contentedly and relax on top of him, tucking his head under his chin. Circling his arms around the thin body of his boy, Voldemort sighed as well and finally felt at peace with himself.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything HP related I simply see many possibilities and plot twists. Thank you for reading._

_**Warning:** abuse, torture, violence, murder, underage sex, M/M slash._

_A/N: thank you all for your kind reviews! And I am not going to apologize for the mushy stuff anymore. It is inevitable. _

* * *

The next day all the death eaters gathered at the Ceremonial Hall to celebrate their lord's official return and their successful performance at the Triwizard Tournament's finale. Throwing their masks high up in the air they cheered Voldemort, who stood before them, grinning smugly, clearly pleased with himself, surrounded by his faithful Inner Circle. His creature form looked particularly scary in the white robe he was wearing - it almost blended with his deathly white skin, making his blood red eyes stand out starkly. Eridanus couldn't help but admire his look, unlike everybody else he found his master's glamour intriguing, perversely arousing. Glad that his mask was on, he licked his lips and bit them harshly, trying very hard not to stare.

Voldemort raised his hand to draw silence across the hall, "My loyal followers, I congratulate you and thank you for your service, you all did so well," he gave them a feral smile, baring his sharp teeth, "I am pleased to note that we lost only two of our people, while the Light lost twelve." At that the crowd roared in angry satisfaction.

"We also shouldn't forget that our dear Lord Lestrange, despite his best efforts, did win the tournament after all," he gestured at his boy, smirking amusedly and everybody laughed. Once again, Eridanus was glad he wore his mask.

"To thank you and demonstrate my appreciation, I am giving you the fortress for today and tomorrow, you may eat and drink as much as you wish, do whatever you like, there would be women and men to pleasure you and some hunting later this evening as well." The death eaters couldn't cheer louder, they were ecstatic with their lord's generosity. They eagerly spread out at his signal, hurrying to taste all the pleasures and entertainments prepared for them. Some lingered close, chatting and drinking, some went through the opened doors into the courtyard to play cards, only the Inner Circle and werewolves stayed behind, not moving from their positions. And Voronov. His silver mask clutched in his hands, he carefully came closer and kneeled before the Dark Lord.

"My lord."

"Rise, Alexi," Voldemort smiled at him, assessing his young, thin face. Voronov wore a delicate anchor beard and a small moustache of deep black, while his short a slightly lighter shade hair were stricken with white at the temples. His small brown eyes, hidden under thick heavy eyebrows, looked intelligently and cunningly. His features were sharp and angular, very much like Severus', only lacked the subtlety and delicacy, aristocracy common for british purebloods. Voronov was the very image of a worthy headmaster of the dark scandinavian school.

"Since our beloved Igor had finally left us," the golden masked wizards laughed cruelly at that and Voronov also allowed a small evil smile to tag on the corners of his mouth, "You are going to become the new Durmstrang's headmaster. Your mission is hard and important, you know that very well, I know I don't have to tell you how to do your job," Voldemort smirked at the spark of arrogant humor that flashed in the young man's eyes, "However, I wish to assure you of my full support and my sincere faith in you, for I know you would not disappoint me. Give me your mask, Alexi."

Widening his eyes ever so slightly in delightful surprise, Voronov obediently held out his silver mask for his master. The Dark Lord gently took it in his long bony fingers and smiled viciously, "It is very hard to get into my Inner Circle, it is even harder to stay there," he touched the mask with his white wand and it glowed green and turned golden.

Voronov fell on his knees and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe, "Thank you, my lord, I will not fail you," he breathed out, evidently pleased and overwhelmed with joy.

"See that you won't," Voldemort hissed softly and leaned forward to put the mask on the man's face. "I will visit Durmstrang later, in the beginning of june, perhaps, before the examinations start. Lord Lestrange, whom you may call Eridanus now, since you share one rank, told me that Viktor Krum expressed his wish to join us when he graduates. I would like to come and meet him and all other children who are interested in siding with our cause."

"Of course, my lord," Voronov was obviously smiling behind his mask, "We will be waiting impatiently for your visit, it is a great honor to welcome you in our school."

"I will come with Eridanus, since he is the youngest of us and closest to the student's age, it would be easy for him to communicate with the children you deem talented and worthy enough to enter our ranks. I would also like to supervise some of your lessons and discuss your curriculum."

"Yes, my lord," Voronov bowed and glanced at Lord Lestrange briefly. Eridanus took off his mask and gave him a small polite smile. Nodding, Voronov turned back to Voldemort.

"That would be all, you are free to go and do as you please," the Dark Lord waved him off and the new Durmstrang's headmaster bowed once again and left, along with other wizards of the Inner Circle, who were eager to welcome him and celebrate his promotion. Eridanus moved to join them but was called back by his master. "Eridanus, stay behind."

The werewolves shared a wary look between each other, while Greyback wasn't looking at anybody at all, preferring to stare at the floor, cautious not to make any unnecessary moves. He was fuming inside, guessing that Voldemort was going to brag to his little slut about the way he punished the werewolf. And surely, his men were to hear of this as well, to laugh at him, no doubt.

"Eridanus, you should know that Greyback's ignorance and arrogance were dealt with accordingly to his rush, reckless actions," Voldemort drawled smugly, looking into his boy's eyes and smiling mischievously. "Since he is not able to hold his cock in his pants and incapable of using his brain instead of it, he is now poisoned with silver, that resides in his testicles. Every time he would try to indulge himself, even in elementary wanking, the silver would spread through his blood and affect his whole body. Oh, and his every move brings him noticeable discomfort. What do you say, my little one," he tilted his head, laughing softly, "Is the punishment to your liking?"

"It is, my lord," Eridanus bowed, smiling viciously at the werewolf, "I have to admit you were very generous as to grace Greyback with this unique spell I am sure you've created only for him," at these words Fenrir had to grit his teeth and clench his fists to not blow up and jump on the imprudent brat and rip his throat out. This whore had the cheek to laugh at him! His companions were staring at him in mocking horror, barely containing their chuckles.

"Now you can see the consequences of disobeying Lord Lestrange," Voldemort addressed the werewolves, pinning each of them with an icy glare, "I do not wish to repeat myself anymore. Lord Lestrange is your better and you are to obey his every command. No harm can be caused him if you want to live long enough to see another day, is that clear?" The werewolves hastily kneeled, showing their understanding and submission. Greyback kneeled as well, wincing slightly at the pain in his genitals, sending the boy murderous looks. "Very well, you are dismissed." The wolves left, joining the death eaters outside.

**xxx**

It was almost dusk, the sun had set and the darkening sky took on a reddish hue, reminding Eridanus of blood. The wizards and werewolves ate and drank, gambled and basked in the late spring warmth, scattered all over the courtyard and the wild garden in front of the forest. He watched them through the tall window of the hall, aware of his lord standing behind him stroking his thick braid gently.

"I've missed the sound of your sweet screams, it's been so long since I last tortured you," this was enough for Eridanus to come undone. He sucked in a harsh breath, as his imagination helpfully provided him with the tempting images. Swallowing thickly, he turned to his master and caressed his bald head.

"Make me scream, my lord," he whispered and saw the fire in the blood red eyes all but burning him on the inside. Voldemort grabbed on his braid and pushed him roughly down on his knees.

::Scream for me, my love,:: he drew his wand and threw the cruciatus curse, shuddering in satisfaction at the sound of the boy's hoarse moans. Eridanus could endure a lot more pain now, and the first few minutes of the torture brought him only pleasure. He stroke his throbbing cock through his thick black robes, groaning indecently, staring into his master's eyes, as his eyelashes palpitated at the waves of coming orgasm washing over him. Feeling his pleasure through their link, Voldemort couldn't help but moan softly, turned on by the notion that he alone could make these green eyes burn with fierce desire, only he could bring his lover such satisfaction through pain. Eridanus fell on the floor, withering and shivering under the yew wand, coming feverishly, as the curse took its tall and began clouding his mind, cutting on his insides. He wailed as his cock pulsed for the last time and his body convulsed in the overwhelming pleasure of release.

::Scream, scream, Eri, it's been only six minutes, my dear, I want to make it ten,:: Voldemort hissed, panting heavily as his every limb seemed to vibrate, answering his boy thrashing on the floor. Eridanus screamed as the sharp pain pierced through his head and traveled down all the way to his groin. The blinding hurting kept bringing him to the edge of clear awareness and pushing him back into the black nothingness. He thought he was floating although his body was still jerking violently on the stone floor - he didn't feel it anymore. All he felt were the waves of slicing sharpness. He tasted blood on his tongue as he bit it. Screaming louder if it was even possible, he rolled from one side to another, arching his back and bucking his hips up, welcoming pain as his lover. Voldemort groaned as he came hard, simply watching Eridanus thrash and cry at his feet. The boy's hands found enough strength to move over to his burning groin and the Dark Lord had to bite his lip, to restrain himself from assaulting his little one right on the spot.

Eridanus couldn't come in such pain, although he kept squeezing his aching erection and wailing. Taking his pity on the little lord, Voldemort canceled the curse and healed Eridanus, as he always did after their torturing sessions. Sighing softly, the boy went still, letting his limbs relax completely and enjoy the feeling of the parsel-magic washing all over him. His lord sat down heavily in his throne, watching him hungrily, still breathing deeply. Eridanus rolled on his side to look at him and smiled at the sight of the ruby eyes glazed with lust and passion. No matter how many different wizards and witches gave him such looks, only his lord made him feel truly wanted, there was something so very special in these blood red eyes, so many words hidden behind their intent watching. He rose on his fours and carefully crawled towards his master, graceful as a wild cat, despite the still sore and mostly numb limbs. Voldemort stared at him in awed anticipation, his fingers jerked ever so slightly, gripping harder on the handle of his wand.

Both the Dark Lord and Eridanus knew they were being watched by many, but that was exactly the point. Hadn't his lord told Eridanus that he enjoyed fucking him in front of the audience? Perhaps, it was time to indulge him. Greyback, who stood right behind the open doors of the hall, almost gaged at the sight of the beautiful, graceful and absolutely irresistible young man, cringing at the feet of the ugly monster. He knew that it was a glamour, but he still couldn't believe that little Lord Lestrange could find it even remotely attractive.

Eridanus reached for his master and slid his hands up the thin but strong thighs, panting softly at the sight of the visible hard bump under the thin fabric of the white robe. "No, my lord, don't shift back," he breathed out when Voldemort moved to cancel his glamour. Raising his non-existent eyebrows in surprise, he watched his boy unbutton his robes and take his hard scaled cock in his hands. Smiling at him, Eridanus licked its head, feeling it throb excitedly in response.

"Would you cast a blood boiling curse on me, master?" he whispered, licking the long thick shaft, tracing each scale with the tip of his tongue. Moaning indecently, Voldemort wordlessly casted the spell and barely restrained himself from coming, gripping the arms of his throne so hard his knuckles turned even whiter, as Eridanus started whimpering at the slowly increasing heat in his veins. He kept licking and stroking the cock, fidgeting slightly as the burning circulated in his body. The Dark Lord grabbed his hair and hissed something incomprehensible in parseltongue, but his boy understood him. Eridanus opened his mouth and took the half of the hard flesh inside, sucking on it, moaning and crying softly all the while. His mouth was so hot and the pain in his body was so strong that Voldemort threw his head back and groaned loudly, not caring about the audience anymore. He thrusted up and Eridanus eagerly took him inside almost fully, squeezing his balls painfully in his hand. Holding the copper haired head down firmly, Voldemort pushed once, twice inside and came, screaming madly, his eyes widening and watering at the insane pleasure. Eridanus pulled away as soon as the last drop of the sperm was in his throat and fell back, convulsing in the unbearable hurting all over his body. His veins swelled - a bright blue against his pale skin. Before he could start screaming, the Dark Lord canceled the curse and jumped on top of him, straddling the boy and assaulting his bleeding mouth.

::You're driving me insane, completely and utterly insane,:: was hissed in his mouth as Eridanus tried hard to come to his senses. He felt the strong hands turn him over and his robes being pulled up, his trousers pushed down. Before he realized what was happening, the hard thickness plunged into his anus and he screamed, barely holding himself up on his shaking arms, as the sharp scales scratched against his inside. Stretched and full, he cried loudly, feeling the overwhelming desire hardening his cock. No matter how painful it was going to be, he wanted it all.

"Yes, yes, please, yes!" he screamed as his lord pushed hastily inside of him, growling and rolling his eyes in pleasure. He grabbed the copper hair and pulled the boy's head back to kiss him on the swollen, scratched mouth, biting into it, sucking blood. His thrusts were violent and urgent, impatient, the notion of being watched fueled his cock and made it pulse frantically. The sound of the flesh slapping against flesh and loud indecent cries of his Eridanus echoed through the hall, caressing his ears. Voldemort bit into the soft skin of the long neck and came hard, almost blacking out in the painful release as Eridanus clenched his muscles, crying out and coming as well. The Dark Lord had never ejaculated so much in such a short period of time. Perhaps, it had something to do with his creature state, or, perhaps, it all was Eridanus' doing. He was inclined to believe it was the latter. Groaning weakly, he held on tight to his boy, trying to blink away the darkness that invaded his vision. His ragged breaths matched Eridanus' shuddering ones, as their chests rose and fell in hormonic sequence.

::I love you:: Voldemort hissed and, as his glamour dissipated under the intensity of his emotions, he gathered his strength and apparated them both away into their bedroom.

**xxx**

Voldemort woke up to the feeling of soft warm palms enveloping his face in a pleasant heat, as the tender wet lips covered it with featherlight kisses. Slowly every inch of his skin became aware of the other pressing against it, lying on top of him, and his hands reached out to stroke the tender buttocks and thighs. He sighed, as his mouth caught the boy's in a gentle kiss. His heart beat loudly against his ribcage, sending small tingling pulses all over his body. He knew now what it was, what it indicated. He knew it meant he loved, dearly, madly, truly. It didn't anger him anymore, didn't annoy him, in fact, he reveled in the notion that he could, was able to love. Eridanus was the only person in the whole world Voldemort wanted to spend his whole life with. As this thought fully formed in his mind he suddenly pulled away from the sweet lips and opened his eyes to meet the bright green ones, staring into his.

After an awkward silence, Eridanus softly asked, "You do know you were thinking aloud and I heard everything, don't you?"

"Yes." What else was he supposed to say when he finally and completely admitted to himself and, by accident, to his lover, that he saw their relationship as eternity together? That he now felt as if their lives were inseparable? That they were inseparable, one? That Eridanus was his whole world?

His boy gave him that soft, affectionate smile that he liked so much and stroked his hair gently, carding his fingers through the brown locks, still looking into his eyes, silently telling him how much he loved him. Voldemort pulled him closer, circling his arms around the narrow waist, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he must have looked, how vulnerable he actually felt. "Eri..."

"Shh," Eridanus pressed a finger against his lips, "I know what you are thinking. You're wrong. You are not weak, nor you are vulnerable. You look human, Tom, you feel human, that's all. And I am the only one who would ever see you like this," he traced the contour of his lips with his thumb and closed his eyes to lean down and kiss him. "But don't worry, love, I would never tell or show anyone. You, the real you, belong only to me and me alone. And I love you for what you are, for who you are. I will stay with you forever," he whispered and kissed him again.

Eridanus sighed, as his lover rolled over him and pressed his face into his chest, clinging to him, seeking comfort and reassurance. He carded his fingers through Tom's hair, as his other hand gently stroked Tom's back.

Love, indeed, was a perfect drug.

**xxx**

Two last weeks of spring were spent in peace and pleasurable lazing between The Lair and Grimmauld's. Standing in front of the old wardrobe of dark wood, Eridanus tried to decide which robe he would like to wear today. A short message from twins was clutched in his hand - they asked to be taken to meet his father and uncle. Groaning, Eridanus kept pushing a robe after robe to the side. How could he choose anything plain, when his master filled his wardrobe with most expensive and exquisite clothes he had ever seen? Oh, he loved it, but he wasn't going to a ball, for Slazar's sake! Finally, he dug out a simple black three piece suit and, having ignored the jacket, put it on. The trousers were very tight, too tight. Figures. Eridanus smirked at his reflection in the tall mirror - leave it to Voldemort to dress him up to only be undressed and ravished in a matter of a few minutes. He rolled up the sleeves of his golden shirt, baring his marked arm. It did occur to him that he should probably spell it invisible but there was no point in hiding it from Sirius and Remus now, was it? The same went for the twins. Satisfied with his look, Eridanus left the bedroom and strode to the opposite wing of the fortress, braiding his disheveled, tangled hair on the way.

"I'm off to Grimmauld's to collect the twins, will be back soon," he shouted into the open doors of the Ceremonial Hall and proceeded further in the direction of the library.

"Where do you think you're going looking like that?" a cold voice made him stop. He turned to meet the blood red eyes that were hard as stone, warning him.

Smiling, he winked at the Dark Lord, "This is the most casual outfit I was able to find, I can't help you dressing me like a prince." Voldemort's hungry gaze told Eridanus that he too found the trousers to be very tight, pleasantly tight. "No, don't look at me like that, I have to go and get the twins here, you go work!" he laughed and tried to push the tall intimidating snake-man back into the hall.

"You will keep your mind open for me, Eri, I do not trust you and those around you," Voldemort growled lowly and narrowed his eyes at his boy.

Eridanus only shook his head and laughed at him, "Fine, fine!" he squeezed the thin bony hand of his master. He turned and quickly walked to the library. The Lestrange brothers were there and after he warned them about the upcoming visit of the Weasleys, he finally apparated to Grimmauld's.

**xxx**

Fred and George stumbled out of the fireplace, laughing like mad, and collided with Remus, who brought tea into the drawing room. After a lot of noise and a struggle of untangling different limbs, everybody finally settled down. Sirius was actually very curious to meet the infamous pranksters personally and they've spent some time sharing memories and stories of his past and their own achievements. Eridanus thought he never laughed so much in his life, his sides ached and he couldn't stop hiccuping. A nasty thought that Voldemort had to listen to all this almost made him hysterical. However, when they moved to leave for the fortress, their fireplace came to life again and a head of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the green flames. Eridanus hastily pulled the twins out of the room and they hid behind the door, listening in.

"Sirius, Remus, how are you, my boys?" the headmaster asked, cheerful as ever.

Both smiled at him politely. "We're fine, Albus, thank you," Remus answered, and poured a third cup of tea, holding it up to the old man, "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Oh that would be very nice, indeed. I would come through in a minute," Dumbledore twinkled at them mirthfully, "I wished to speak to Eridanus, by the way, there is a serious matter we should discuss," he added nonchalantly, clearly showing that he was expecting the boy to sit in the house during all these days, hidden behind the wards.

"Of course, Albus, I will call him down," Sirius stood up and strode to the door. As soon as he was out of the view from the fireplace he glared at the three teens at the threshold, silently telling them to hurry up. Nodding, Eridanus grabbed both redheads on their arms and touched his dark mark with the tip of his wand, apparating them away to the fortress. He never saw his godfather stare at his marked limb in a pained resignation. However, there was nothing Sirius could say or do about this. He had been anticipating this for quite some time, but it still hurt a little to see his godson being branded just like everybody else. Shaking his head, he slowly ascended the stairs, making a show of looking for the boy.

Eridanus and Weasleys landed on their arses right in front of the wide eyed Rabastan and Rodolphus. The redheads stared at the copper haired wizards, who stared back with as much curiosity and weariness. Of course, they had been writing to each other for a long time, but meeting in real life was a completely different matter altogether.

"I think you two would be fine as long as you stay close to my father and uncle," Eridanus stood up, rubbing on his backside, "I'm sorry I can't stay, I have to go and take care of Dumbledore, whatever it is he wants to discuss with me."

"Be careful," Rabastan looked at him pointedly and tapped his finger against the temple. His son nodded and smiled at him softly. Always keep your mind clear and safe, that was what his family taught him and he wasn't the one to fail them.

"Well, little ones," Rodolphus smiled unkindly at the twins, who were still on the floor, looking at the notorious murderers in awe, "May I offer you two a drink? There is a lot for us to discuss," he purred and both George and Fred shared a knowing, cunning look. Nobody ever offered them alcohol, even though they had already became legal adults. Rodolphus held out his both hands and the redheads eagerly took them and rose up. Eridanus waved them off and apparated back to Grimmuald's, hastily spelling his mark invisible in parseltongue, just as Sirius opened the door into his bedroom.

"I don't have to tell you to be extremely careful now, do I?" his godfather whispered when they were walking down the stairs.

"Do not worry, Siri," Eridanus whispered back, "Everything is under control."

When they entered the drawing room, Dumbledore was already seated in one of the armchairs, chewing on the biscuits and chatting amiably with Remus. Eridanus took a deep breath, strengthening his mind shields, and plastered a broad smile on his face. He felt a slight pull in the back of his mind - Voldemort was in his mindscape, curious to listen to what the old headmaster had to say. Their connection was so strong now, that they could easily enter each other's minds and Voldemort didn't even ask for permission to do so anymore. Not that Eridanus really cared, he could block him out when it was necessary, but mostly he welcomed his presence. His darkness felt especially pleased and safe when his lord was visiting.

"Eridanus, my boy! You look so much better!" Dumbledore beamed at him, however, his eyebrows creased a little as he took in the boy's clothes that all but cracked, wrapped around his body as tight as a second skin. "I see Sirius and Remus take a great care of you." If there was a suggestion layered under this comment, Eridanus chose to ignore it. He sat down next to Remus and gratefully took an offered cup of tea. He felt like he was going to burst soon, so much of it was already inside of him, but he needed to keep his hands occupied, it helped to concentrate on occluding his mind.

"Hello, sir, it is great to see you too," he smiled and sipped slowly, looking Dumbledore straight in the eyes.

Albus pursed his lips and, stirring his tea with a spoon, seemingly lost in his thoughts, examined the boy in front of him. There was a slight weariness in his features - one of a person that was struggling with a great loss. He knew that expression all too well. Of course, despite all the obstacles in his life, Eridanus was still a child, and even though he was dark, he was still capable of feeling regret and accepting a responsibility - and that was reassuring. He looked up at Sirius and Remus, "Gentlemen, I am afraid I will have to speak to Eridanus privately. It concerns him and him alone, and it is his decision, whether he would like to tell you later or not."

Sirius looked like he was going to protest but he saw his godson's face take on a determined expression and his eyes harden - he clearly knew what the headmaster was going to talk about. It always creeped him out just how much was going on in the boy's life of what he knew nothing about. Though he understood that Eridanus kept him in the dark for his own good, he couldn't help but feel worried, apprehensive. And the boy's mind was a complete mystery to him. He loved him like his own son and admired his talents and his personality but sometimes he looked at him and felt shivers go down his spine - Eridanus was a riddle, just as his Dark Lord and lover, he was dangerous and completely unpredictable. After the tournament Sirius fully realized that his godson wasn't just a dark wizard, he was something more and, he was certain, he was going to change their world. Would it be for the better though, he couldn't be sure.

**xxx**

When the two men left and closed the door behind them, Dumbledore finished his cup and put it down on the table. Folding his hands in his lap he looked at Eridanus gravely. "This is a very serious matter, Eridanus, and you must listen to me very carefully," he said softly and waited for the boy to react. Eridanus met his eyes and simply nodded, his face betraying none of his emotions or thoughts. Dumbledore entertained the idea of using legilimency on him but something was telling him the boy would notice and he decided to leave this option for later.

"There is dark magic, as you know," the old wizard began, "And there is a much darker kind of it as well, which borders with black magic and more often than not leads to disastrous, horrifying results. One of the most dangerous branches of the dark arts is a soul magic. Of course it also belongs to the light, we see it in a form of family's or lovers' union, but what I am talking about goes far beyond everything we know about magic and far beyond the abilities of most wizards and witches. As you remember, we had a talk some time ago about Tom Riddle - an ambitious and highly talented wizard who lately became Lord Voldemort." At that Eridanus nodded again and lowered his eyes to look at the dark liquid swirling in his cup. The Dark Lord huffed in his head impatiently. They both knew where this was going.

"He started exploring the depths of the dark early, long before he graduated from Hogwarts. It is my belief that he attempted a soul magic in his sixth year. There is a very dangerous, evil art of the Creation of Horcrux," Dumbledore sighed heavily and closed his eyes, frowning. "A horcrux is an object in which a wizard puts a part of his soul. In order to do so, a wizard must perform a horrible ritual which involves a human sacrifice - a murder."

"Why would you dissect your soul and hide a part of it in an object?" Eridanus feigned ignorance and confusion, "Is it to gain some kind of immortality?"

"Yes, you are right," Dumbledore nodded, "One splits his soul in half to escape a sudden death. However, you can imagine what consequences follow. Loosing a half of one's soul leaves one half-human."

"Well, no wonder why Voldemort is stark mad," Eridanus snorted, "But why does he look so hideous? Is it also horcrux doing?" he had to bit his lower lip to not let himself cackle at his lord's loud protests. He tried to tune out the man's smug bragging about just how much repulsed his little one was when he sucked his scaled cock just yesterday.

"You see, my boy," the headmaster explained, "Our bodies not only serve as vessels but also reflect our souls. Voldemort's appearance is the proof of just how destructive and filthy the dark magic is." He halted for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Eridanus poured him more tea and the old wizard accepted it with a small mirthless smile. "Voldemort made more than one horcrux, Eridanus, of that I am sure. Judging by the way he completely lost his humanity by the end of the war, one may assume that he split his soul more than it even was possible, not only he lost any resemblance to a human being, but he lost the sense of reason as well, he became driven by fear and hunger for power and completely lost ability to feel."

"I see," Eridanus scowled and sipped his tea. Dumbledore kept quiet, watching him intently. He was waiting for him to make his move. "Is it possible to destroy a horcrux? Would the soul contained in it return to its other half?"

It looked like he asked the right kind of question. "It is possible, I believe. And no, the soul would be destroyed along with the object that contains it."

"Is it possible to put all the soul parts back in one and force into Voldemort? He might realize just how many mistakes he made when he regains his sanity," he said carefully and gave the headmaster an uncertain, innocent look.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head, smiling sadly, "You are too kind hearted, my boy, it is a wonder how forgiving you can be. However, I don't think this would be possible. And even if Voldemort did gain his sanity back, I doubt it would have helped him. He is beyond any help now," he lifted his shoulders helplessly, giving the boy one of his apologetic, sweet smiles.

"So this is how he managed to resurrect... And you think the only way to stop him is to destroy the horcruxes," Eridanus concluded gravely.

"I do," was the headmaster's simple answer. Albus watched the boy, waiting for him to acknowledge his role in this and his obligations to the wizarding world.

"And you are telling me all this because you think I am destined to destroy the horcruxes?" Eridanus inhaled sharply, feigning nervousness and discomfort.

"I don't think, I know for sure," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and Lord Lestrange felt the cold sweat run down his spine. How easily the Light Lord manipulated other's lives, how easily he sent others to death. Not that it frightened him, no, it simply irritated him just how hypocritical and self-righteous the old man was.

"What do you mean?" he widened his eyes in false fear.

Dumbledore leaned closer and placed his old wrinkled hands over his, that were still holding a cup of tea. His pale blue eyes stared intently into the green ones. "This is very hard for me, my boy, I hate it to be true but as years passed I realized that it is the only possible explanation. You are one of the Voldemort's horcruxes, Eridanus," the old wizard raised one of his hands and pressed his index finger against the lightning bolt scar. Eridanus shivered and gasped for pretense's sake, gripping hard on the cup to restrain his darkness that was ready to lash out and strangle the old man that dared to touch him, dared to touch his scar, his lord's scar.

"How is this possible," he didn't have to make his voice tremble, his anger did that for him. Voldemort also tried to sooth him, holding on his darkness tightly, taming it with his touch. "I am a human being, I am not an object," he whined for the effect and squeezed a tear out of his eye.

"I am so very sorry, my boy, so sorry," Dumbledore moved to sit with him and embraced him tightly, rubbing calming circles on his back. "I am afraid this is true. This must have occurred the night Voldemort came to kill you. Your mother's love saved you and made the killing curse rebound and hit its caster instead. But when it hit Voldemort, it did not kill him, but tore the remaining part of his soul in two. He must have prepared the ritual just before coming for you, perhaps, he was planning to use your death as a sacrifice for yet another horcrux of his. This little soul piece, that was freed out of his body, found the only vessel that could let it survive - you," the headmaster took Eridanus by the chin and gently pushed his head up to look into his wide, wet eyes. "This is why you speak parseltongue, this is why you are inclined to the dark magic - his soul tainted you."

The boy's body shook in his arms as the muffled sobs reached his ears. However, Eridanus wasn't crying, he was cackling inwardly. Finally, for once the old coot told him the truth. He sat up sharply, rubbing on his tear stricken face, sniffing indecently. Dumbledore watched him patiently, giving him time to pull himself together. Taking a long shuddering breath, Eridanus whispered hoarsely, "There is no way to get it out of me, is there?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "There is not." At first he thought he could try and find a way to do it, the boy was a precedent, if it was possible to create a living horcrux than it was definitely possible to take the foreign soul out. However, he knew very well that the child was dark since his birth and he decided it would be better to get rid of the Lord Lestrange. It would be better and more beneficial for the Light to let Eridanus and Voldemort kill each other. The ex-Harry Potter would remain the martyr and the wizarding hero and Dumbledore would kill two birds with one stone. Leaving a powerful dark wizard alive wasn't the best idea - he had learned his lesson with Tom Riddle well.

"So I must die in order to kill him," Eridanus said, his voice hollow and cold. He stood up and moved to stand before the weak fire, shivering as if dread was freezing his insides.

"Your mother sacrificed her life in order to save you and gave you a chance to destroy the threat Voldemort is to our world. Now is your turn to sacrifice yourself to do it. We all made and will make great sacrifices to bring peace and harmony back," Dumbledore also stood and came closer, to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "However, you cannot die before we found out how many horcruxes there are and destroyed them all. Remember, you have a power the Dark Lord knows not, as the prophecy says, you are the only one who can defeat him. It is your sacred duty, my boy, your destiny. We all rely on you."

Easy-peasy, ain't it? Eridanus inwardly laughed, however, his lord wasn't enjoying the situation. He felt Voldemort's tension and apprehension, his fear. Was his master afraid for his horcruxes? He knew they were safe, nobody would ever find them. _"No, you idiot,"_ he heard his lover bit out, _"I fear for you."_ Eridanus felt his chest tighten, and he hugged himself, wishing Tom was here with him.

He almost missed Dumbledore speaking. "This is your decision, of course, whether to tell your godfather or not, but for the sake of his safety I wouldn't do it if I were you," the headmaster squeezed his shoulder and gave him a reassuring, grandfatherly smile. "Voldemort doesn't know you are his horcrux and we should keep it that way."

"I... I need time to digest this all," Eridanus croaked, looking down at his feet.

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore patted him on the back, "Take your time. But be careful and stay here behind the wards, always in a company of both Sirius and Remus. Voldemort would be looking for you." Eridanus nodded, pursing his lips into a tight straight line. He suddenly felt overwhelmed and enraged and wanted nothing else but to be in the arms of his lord. "I would contact you at the end of june, my boy, I have some things to research before we could start hunting for the horcruxes."

"Yes, sir," he whispered not looking at the old man.

Dumbledore sighed and moved to the door, "I know it is hard, Eridanus, it is outright horrible. I am always free and ready to talk if you need me, don't forget that," he smiled softly and walked out.

As soon as he left, Eridanus' expression went from crestfallen to murderous. Shaking in fury, he squeezed his eyes shut and put his hand into the fire. The pain startled him and helped him to calm down. _"Stop this instant,"_ his lord hissed, _"Come back to the fortress, now!"_

"Not yet," Eridanus growled and casted an invisibility charm on himself. He quickly followed the headmaster and soon stood in the corner of the kitchen, watching and listening to Dumbledore's conversation with Sirius.

"Sirius, I think you understand very well how dangerous it is for Eridanus to be away from school now, since Voldemort returned. I have to ask you if you would let the Order move the headquarters into your house? You don't have to participate, I would not force you. But it would be safer for Eridanus to be constantly around us," Dumbledore spoke calmly and kindly, however, Eridanus felt a slight hostility towards his godfather. "There had already been attacks on some of the muggleborn students and their families, I am afraid the war will start much sooner than I previously anticipated."

"Remus and I can protect him very well," Sirius scowled, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting up straighter. "And no, I would not allow the Order meddle around here. Where Order is Snape comes along as a bonus - and, unlike you, I never trusted him and never would. I will not have him sniffing out everything about my godson and bring him to the Dark Lord on a silver plate," he bit out harshly and glared at the old wizard defiantly.

_"Never thought Black could be such a convincing actor,"_ Voldemort drawled, impressed.

Dumbledore sighed, annoyed, "Sirius, it is for Eridanus' own good."

"No, Albus," his godfather shook his head vehemently, "You may move your Order elsewhere - nobody would cross the wards of our house. The less people walk around here, the less is the chance of Eri being harmed or kidnapped. Do not forget, sir," his face darkened and the headmaster sat back uncomfortably as Sirius stood up and towered over him with his intimidating height, "That I was an auror myself, I know better than anyone how to fight the dark wizards."

"Alright, alright," Dumbledore raised his hands in a placating gesture, standing up as well, "I understand. If you change your mind, you know where to find me," he nodded to Remus and left through the fireplace. Sirius instantly locked their floo.

"Eri?" Remus called out and Eridanus canceled the charm, stepping out of the shadowed corner. "Are you alright?" the werewolf asked softly, patting him on the arm.

"Yes," he frowned and turned to his godfather, "Thank you, Siri."

Sirius looked livid, but when he spoke, he sounded more defeated than angry, "I don't like this any better," he gestured at his godson's marked arm, "But it is the matter of keeping you safe, not my preferences. And although I don't know what Dumbledore and you discussed, I have a feeling it is very bad and dangerous. And right now I believe you are safer with V-... with him," he looked down at his hands, clenched into fists.

Eridanus came closer and covered them with his palms, rubbing on the dry skin with his thumbs, "I cannot tell you everything, it is not only my secret to keep." He looked into the sad grey eyes of his godfather, "But I want you to know that Dumbledore wants me dead. He told me I have to die in order to defeat the Dark Lord." Sirius stared at him in horror, and Remus gasped, pressing a hand to his mouth. "So you must never listen to anything he says, whatever he asks of you - do not give in."

"What are you going to do?" Sirius breathed out, grabbing on his hands and squeezing them desperately.

Eridanus smiled at him softly, "Do not worry about me, I will manage. I will keep up with my charade, will help him in his research of defeating the Dark Lord. Be not afraid, my master will keep me safe," he told them, but was speaking more to Voldemort in his head, as if convincing the man that he was in fact able to keep him safe. Sirius pulled him into a hug, seeking reassurance and Eridanus rubbed his back soothingly.

"How can you be so calm?" he heard his godfather whisper.

"I am three steps ahead of Dumbledore, and I have my family and friends whom I can trust and rely on," he smiled at Remus and than at Sirius, who pulled away to look at him. "I must go now, I will bring the twins back here and return to the fortress. I have to deliver this information to the Dark Lord."

"Alright," Sirius nodded and sat down heavily on his chair.

Eridanus hugged Remus as well and apparated to the Lair.

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" Sirius asked his friend, looking at him with wide eyes full of pain and uncertainty.

Remus sighed and pulled him into a tight embrace, "All I know for sure is that the Dark Lord would not kill him, and Dumbledore probably would. Choosing between the two evils I prefer a lesser one. Besides, do not forget that Eridanus is very powerful and very intelligent. I am certain he knows what he's doing. As long as he does - we do as well."

**xxx**

When he entered the drawing room Eridanus was met with the sight of two terribly drunk redheads, who were playing strip poker with equally drunk Rodolphus and Barty, while Rabastan was snogging Severus on a settee. Both his uncle and Barty were almost fully dressed while the twins wore only their pants and, surprisingly, their ties.

"Fred, George, I hate to interrupt, but you have to go back home, your parents would raise hell if you are not back. And take sobering potions," Eridanus came closer and scowled at them.

Sighing, Rodolphus dropped his cards onto the table and stretched a little, winking at the fiercely blushing, giggling twins conspiratorially, "Eri's right, you have to go, boys. However, if you manage to stay at Grimmauld's overnight some time this week, we would gladly continue our game there." He and Barty shared a vicious smirk.

Seeing lust in their eyes, Eridanus sighed, "That could be easily arranged. But right now, you two take the potions and put some clothes on," he wandlessly summoned the vials and pushed them into the boys' hands. The twins obediently gulped them down and spelled themselves dressed.

"Bye," Barty sighed longingly and, grabbing the bottle of whiskey on his way out, left.

Severus' loud moans made Fred and George blush redder than their hair and they hastily left the room, following the smirking Rodolphus and tired but smiling Eridanus. He would have gladly stayed to watch but he had to get the twins home and get back to his lord.

"I will take them," Rodolphus offered suddenly. Eridanus was going to tell him off, since he knew very well just what his uncle was planning, but when he looked at him he saw that the man was actually serious. Rodolphus was watching him intently, sensing that something had happened. Eridanus had nothing to do but comply - his uncle knew better. The older wizard enveloped him in a warm, loving embrace and kissed him on the temple. "Go to your lord," he whispered and pulled away. As soon as he disappeared, with both Weasleys tightly held in his arms, Eridanus apparated into the Dark Lord's wing.

**xxx**

Voldemort was pacing his study, fuming. Even though his little one was right and they indeed were a few steps ahead of the old coot, he still couldn't help but feel rage boiling in his veins. He wanted to strangle Dumbledore, to break his old thin neck. The bastard was ready to send Eridanus to die just as easily as popping one of his blasted lemon drops into his mouth. Clenching his fists Voldemort growled lowly to himself, as the books around him were flying and banging on each other, the glass was rattling, the flames flickering madly in the hearth. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking in fury, which suddenly subsided as soon as a soft, warm hand cupped his cheek and wet lips placed a chaste, sweet kiss on his mouth.

"Tom, it's alright," he felt a quiet whisper ghost over the sensitive skin of his ear. The books fell onto the floor with a loud thud and he unclenched his hands slowly, as every limb of his body started relaxing gradually.

Voldemort opened his eyes and looked into the bright green ones, "I will kill Dumbledore. I will not let this old hag lay a finger on you."

"I know," his boy smiled at him and stepped away to summon the books and spell them back into their places on the shelves. It was a marvelous sight - Eridanus didn't even realize just how casually he used his power, how gracefully, how impressive he looked and felt. Voldemort's eyes involuntarily went lower, to assess the tightness of the clothes on the long, lean body, so flexible and captivating.

"You know, Rabastan is fucking Severus in the drawing room. Want to go and watch?" Eridanus offered nonchalantly, having no intention to do so, however. He knew the innuendo would help his master relax and forget about the pressing matters for a while.

"I don't want to watch them, I have a very nice view here, right in front of me," Voldemort purred and took a slow, predatory step closer, "These trousers are just so tight," he drawled in wonder and reached out and tagged on the waistband, pushing his fingers under the rough, thick layer of fabric.

"Want to help me take them off?" Eridanus breathed out and circled his arms around his lord's neck, pulling on the soft hair playfully.

"Yes," his mouth was roughly taken and a tongue forced its way inside. Welcoming it with heated excitement, Eridanus whined in need and pressed into his master's tall frame, as the strong hands grabbed on his hide, squeezing the buttocks, as the hard nails dug in his flesh through the clothes. He pushed his hips forward to rub against the hard erection of his lover and in a flash found himself bent over the desk. Voldemort tore the trousers off of him, growling lowly, and Eridanus cried out in pleasure of the painful penetration. The thick long cock filled him completely and he shifted, spreading his thighs wider, to feel the hard balls slap against his.

"Mine, mine," Voldemort was panting into his ear, as he kept thrusting into the hot anus, that drove him insane. No matter how much he fucked his boy, how much he stretched him, he still was as tight as an innocent virgin. Moaning, the Dark Lord moved roughly, enjoying the lustful cries and his name being whispered so sinfully between the screams of pleasure, when his cock stroked the prostrate. Eridanus eagerly met every thrust with a push of his own, spreading his thighs wider and wider, arching his back and scratching on the surface of the desk with his fingernails. He felt his vest and shirt were banished and a hot breath filled his ear, "Turn around, I want to see you come." Obediently he shifted to sit on the desk, leaning back on his arms, and watched in vicious glee as the pulsing reddened cock slid inside of him fully to its very base. His own prick was aching maddeningly but he didn't touch himself, knowing too well that his lover liked him to suffer. Voldemort pulled the boy's legs up onto his broad shoulders and pulled out slowly only to push back in violently and hastily. He kept hammering into Eridanus, staring into his eyes, clouded with desire and coming release. His boy screamed so well, better than anyone, just the right way to send shivers down his spine and into his throbbing cock.

"Tom!" Eridanus came, jerking, tightening his muscles around him and Voldemort gathered him into his arms and in a few swift harsh thrusts groaned indecently into his boy's mouth as the painful and pleasant release finally overwhelmed him. Panting, they both went still, enjoying the feel of each other. Eridanus sighed softly and fell back on the desk, sated and hot, wet with sweat and semen. His lover simply watched him, he felt the blood red eyes stroking him lovingly, admiring every inch of his body with outmost attention and desire. Voldemort was still inside of him and he didn't want him to leave. The cool hands caressed his thighs, mapping every inch of his skin. It all felt so good, like nothing else in the world - Eridanus closed his eyes and smiled contentedly.

"We should continue in bed," he heard his master laugh quietly and suddenly he was lying on the soft mattress that smelled of their combined scents. Voldemort banished his clothes as well and lay on top of him, his cock still inside of his anus. "I will fuck you until you won't be able to walk," he grunted and sucked on his neck, biting the tender skin.

"Yes, please do," Eridanus moaned and circled his legs around his lover's narrow waist. It was all he wanted, really. And Voldemort granted him his every wish.

**xxx**

"Will you put a glamour on?" Eridanus asked his master when they apparated into the dark thick forest, suspiciously quiet and still. It seemed like nothing could live here, the air itself was... empty, it didn't lack oxygen but breathing came hard anyway.

"Only on my eye colour," Voldemort murmured, looking around carefully. He put a hand on the small of the boy's back and slowly led him forward, staring intently into the darkness before them. A burst of red sparkles somewhere on the right caught their attention. A dark figure approached them and in the light of the other's wand they saw Voronov's face, buried in deep shadows casted by the tall thick trees.

"My lord," he bowed, "Lord Lestrange, please, follow me," he turned and quickly strode back the way he came, followed by his guests. It was a long walk, however, Eridanus realized that they took a barely visible path, he could see footprints here and there, the grass and mushrooms seemed to tilt a little to the side, as if afraid of being stepped on. Perhaps, they arrived at the nearest apparition point beyond the school's wards.

As the forest began thinning they could make out a glinting surface of a huge black lake. In the bright yet cold light of a northern sun it was as still and surreal as a mirror. When they came to a halt, Eridanus blinked twice, surprised - where it had just been black endless smoothness an island appeared, soaring over the water. An ancient castle resided on it, its thick defensive walls flanked by four tall towers. It looked more like a fortress designed to withstand vicious attacks, rather than a school. Unlike Hogwarts, that had a homely, welcoming feeling to her, Durmstrang suggested power, dominance, protectiveness.

"Welcome to Durmstrang," Voronov smiled and led them to the shore. A plain wooden boat was waiting for them. It glided effortlessly and swiftly, as they sat in it, mesmerized by the view around them. Like the Black Lake in Scotland, the White Lake in Norway was magical and unplottable, the island of Swan was charmed invisible and only the staff could bring visitors to the school due to its protective spells. Stepping onto the small wharf, Eridanus had to tilt his head up to see the narrow stained-glass windows at the top of the towers.

"It has been many years since I came here for the first time," he heard Voldemort say softly and turned to see a small smile tagging on the corners of the man's lips.

Voronov beckoned them to follow and led them to the huge iron doors, that were at least twelve feet high and their surface was covered with beautiful carvings, that told stories of famous scandinavian wizards and witches. At the small wave of headmaster's hand they parted and slowly opened, welcoming the guests inside. Despite its cold and stern façade, Durmstrang was as warm and cosy as Hogwarts on the inside. The spacious stone halls were well lit and the floors were covered with thick red carpets. Although there were no talking portraits on the walls, there were different tapestries and artwork panels that changed with every hour of the day. It was quiet and empty inside - all students were in classes.

Crossing the main hall, the three wizards went through the stained-glass doors and found themselves in a spacious courtyard, drowning in the green of short soft grass, tall thick crowns of trees, that casted deep, cool, welcoming shadows. However, they didn't stop there and proceeded further to the opposite wing of the castle. Once inside, they turned left and suddenly were ascending the circular staircase up into the tower. Eridanus concluded it was some kind of a charm, that let them cross the halls so fast. Unlike Dumbledore's, the staircase was long and it didn't move. Voronov opened the heavy wooden door once they stepped on the landing and motioned for them to enter. The headmaster's office was a complete opposite to the one at Hogwarts. There were no singing and dangling trinkets, no strange magical contraptions. The room looked more like a study, crammed with gigantic bookcases, filled with hundreds of ancient tomes and scrolls. An old tattered desk stood in the middle, chained to the floor - it trembled ever so slightly, which made Eridanus smile. It should have been rather funny to be forced to work at the cursed desk. There were a few portraits of previous headmasters, however, they were obviously specifically chosen to hang on these walls.

At his curious inspection, Voronov smiled, "Yes, we do not keep them all here, only those who proved to be wise advisories and talented wizards."

Voldemort came closer to one of them, with a pale blond wizard seated in the straight rather uncomfortable armchair. "Amicus," he greeted and his lips stretched in a vicious smile when the man opened his pale blue, almost colourless eyes and widened them in surprise.

"My, my, Voldemort, it's been ages! And you still look as young as you were the first time we met," Amicus purred and leaned forward, to get a better look at his unexpected guest, "Have you managed to become immortal? My, such a fit, but I always knew that if somebody would achieve this it would be you, my dear," he smiled suggestively. Eridanus narrowed his eyes at that, suddenly feeling a choking heat in his chest. What was it, jealousy? He wanted to laugh at himself, however, he couldn't look away and kept burning a hole in the blonde wizard's portrait.

"Good to see you too, Amicus," the Dark Lord laughed softly and winked at him. Now Eridanus saw red. He sharply moved forward and stepped closer to his master, sending the portrait murderous glares. He knew he was being silly and childish but the feeling of possessiveness and jealousy all but burned him alive on the inside.

"Oh, and who might this fine young man be?" Amicus stared at him in wonder and fascination. His withered eyes roamed over Eridanus' form hungrily, shamelessly. Sure, he was a portrait after all, but Lord Lestrange was all but itching to curse him with one of the nasty spells he found in the Black's library.

"Lord Eridanus Rabastan Lestrange," he growled lowly and threw a warning glare at his lover. Voldemort snorted and rolled his eyes at his antics, though he looked rather pleased, feeling his boy's emotions though their link.

Amicus' eyes got ridiculously wide and he bowed his head respectfully, "It's an honor, young lord. I am Amicus Asteros."

"Amicus was a famous astronomer, he could predict future by reading the stars," Voldemort explained, "His works were prohibited for distribution in the wizarding world, so you would have never heard his name at Hogwarts."

"And why were they banned?" Eridanus raised his eyebrows.

At that both Amicus and the Dark Lord smirked and shared a knowing look between each other. "Because I usually predict the victories of the dark lords," the astronomer snorted and leaned back in his chair, casually crossing his legs. "Your lord had come here after Grindelwald's downfall, looking for answers to his own fate. I gave them, and once again I see my predictions were right."

"We will be staying here for a few days so you would have more time for chatting later, we've got some work to do," Voldemort turned to Eridanus and gave him a pointed look.

"Recruiting, I see," Amicus laughed. The Dark Lord ignored him and walked back to Voronov, who held out a stack of parchments for him. While they both bent over the desk to discuss them, Eridanus looked back at the portrait of astronomer, who was watching him intently.

"I saw you in the stars, little lord," he whispered, "Only I saw you in a different capacity." He frowned and rubbed on his temple thoughtfully, all the while staring into the green eyes of the young boy in front of him.

Eridanus scowled at him, "And what that capacity would be?" He really didn't like this wizard.

"I would tell you when you come alone to talk to me," the wizard said simply, stood up and left his frame. Eridanus saw as he appeared in each other portrait, soundlessly brushing past the sleeping headmasters and finally disappeared completely.

At his perplexed expression Voronov looked up at him, "He went to his main portrait, in the astronomy tower, he often does that when he needs time to think." Confused and lost, Eridanus nodded, frowning to himself. Now he had to go there some time later and speak to this annoying man... but he wasn't the one to ignore prophecies and predictions, now, was he?

After Voldemort and Voronov agreed on which classes would be supervised and when would be the children introduced to Eridanus, the Dark Lord glamoured his eyes to be teal instead of ruby and the three of them left for lunch in the Great Hall. The place was smaller than Hogwarts' but cosy nevertheless. Durmstrang didn't have houses and children were divided by years. There were eight tables in total - seven for students and one for the staff. The Head Table was placed on a low dais and was decorated in black, the walls were covered in black and red banners with mottos and Durmstrang's crests on them. Eridanus and Voldemort were seated on Voronov's left and right, as the most important guests. A hundred pairs of eyes stared at them curiously, at the lightning bolt scar particularly. Eridanus met Krum's gaze and smiled at him, receiving a cheeky grin in return.

"Your attention, please!" Voronov stood up and raised his hands, though it wasn't necessary, the students were already quiet and all ears. Judging by the awe with which Krum had described Voronov as a teacher, there was no doubt that everybody were afraid of him and blindly obeyed his every word. "Today we have two very special guests at our school. Lord Riddle," he bowed to his lord and Voldemort rose up, looking over the hall, seemingly meeting every pair of eyes, "And Lord Lestrange," Voronov bowed to Eridanus and he also stood up. Both he and his master wore matching black fighting robes and all those who were intelligent enough would have likely understood who they were and what they came for. At his name students looked between each other, sharing knowing nods - of course they knew him, knew too well. "They are staying here for a few days and would be supervising some of our classes. The aim of their visit is to find the most talented wizards in your midst and offer them unique opportunities for their future in the wizarding world. So it would be in your best interest to behave and work at the best of your abilities." Voronov sat down when he finished and food instantly appeared on the tables. While the students began quietly discussing their guests, Eridanus attacked his plate, feeling suddenly hungry. The food was different from Hogwarts' but all the same delicious.

Voldemort watched other teachers out of the corner of his eye. He was going to meet them in the lounge room after the lunch. It was a pity he couldn't just use legilimency on them, he didn't want to announce his identity just yet - it was imperative that they approached him out of their own will and interest. While they all were obviously dark wizards and never sided with the Light, they had never voiced their support for the Dark either and the ambiguity of the situation annoyed him. Neutrality was a tempting option for many, if it was in his power he would have destroyed the mere idea of neutrality as a phenomenon. The war he started touched everyone, there was no way out of it, the price was too high. It was a great effort on his behalf to let Black and Lupin be. However, he was perceptive and intelligent enough to understand that they didn't come back to the light side only because of Eridanus. If it wasn't for the boy and his nature, they would have surely opposed him despite all the losses and deceptions they had suffered. Voldemort looked on his left - the copper haired menace was rubbing his full stomach and his face took on a very feline expression, one of a sated, lazy cat. Just how much more would change because of the mere boy? Voldemort looked away and frowned - no, his Eri was no mere boy, he was his destiny and all the changes he brought were necessary. He didn't need Asteros' predictions and insights to realize that.

**xxx**

"Will you tell me that spell, Eridanus?" Krum smiled at the copper haired wizard when he and fourteen more soon-to-graduate students gathered in one of the empty classrooms after the dinner the next day. Eridanus met them all, while Voldemort stood aside, invisible, watching the children closely. It always was more efficient to recruit them when they were young and naive, when they had ambitions and passion for fighting. The older they got, the more difficult it became for them to establish priorities. As soon as a pureblood started a family and brought an heir into the world, it seemed as if his or her brain shut down and everything got reduced to being worthy of the family name, not the Dark Lord and the cause. These thoughts made Voldemort frown - he suddenly realized that although Eridanus was his and loved him, he was still a child. What would happen when he grew up and realized that he was the last of the Lestranges? That the family needed an heir? Of course, he could arrange a marriage to simply produce a child or two, keeping their relationship unharmed, however, children never bode well with the Dark Lord and he hated to admit it, but he didn't want to share Eri with anybody else, even Eri's children... Voldemort snapped himself out of his musings and hissed in irritation - it wasn't the time and the place for such nonsense.

A girl with long golden hair was interrogating the young Lord Lestrange. "How come that you, the Savior of the Light, came here to recruit us for the army of the Dark?" her posture screamed superiority and distrust.

But Eridanus only smiled at her and shifted to sit more comfortably on the desk, "As you all know, I am a dark wizard," he addressed all of them, trying to look into every pair of eyes, to convey his sincerity, "And although I was the reason of the Dark Lord's demise, I have nothing against him and his cause. Honestly, I welcome it. I am dark and I hate to see my kind oppressed and outcasted, I hate to be forced to hide my true nature, my heritage, my parentage, I hate to watch my friends, the heirs of most noble dark families, being shunned by the Light, feel embarrassed for being who they are. I can't stand by and watch as vampires and werewolves are no longer classified as human beings, are being hunted and slain like wild dogs."

He paused to look around and see that he had their full attention. "I want you to be able to proudly admit that you are dark, to freely practice the dark arts and never limit your knowledge and power. But most of all I want you to be safe from muggles. If the Light would manage to bring us to a 'peaceful coexistence' as they call it, we would be hunted down and turned into slaves. Our magic is great and powerful, but it wouldn't stand against the muggles' technology and their numbers. Right now you are safe, hidden behind the walls of your school, you are free to do whatever you please with the wonderful, understanding staff you were blessed to have, but," Eridanus raised his finger, "As soon as you walk out of the gates and enter the real world, you would realize that there is no place for you there. Most of you come from other countries, forced to study in Norway due to the lack of a decent dark school in your homeland. But what would you return to? Hatred and distrust. They would not welcome you back, they would not let you use the dark magic. Is this the fate you are looking forward to?"

The children were silent, but their concentrated, darkened faces told Voldemort they did understand what Eridanus was telling them, and they were indeed frightened.

"The Dark Lord killed your mother, but you are loyal to his cause. Why?" asked a tall dark boy, he spoke with italian accent and actively gestured during the process. There could be no mistake, it was Blaise's cousin, Pascal Zabini.

Eridanus gave him a small smile, "It was a war, Pascal, first of all. The Dark Lord never knew that I was dark, or that I was a Lestrange, all he knew was that I posed a threat, as did my mother and her husband. Besides, I never knew her, there is nothing to regret or to miss. It wasn't the Dark Lord's fault I had to spend my childhood with muggles. You see, while he killed my mother, the Light took away my remaining family: they imprisoned my father, my uncle, and my godfather who fought at their side at that time. I was their 'Savior' yet not once they tried to find me, to get to know me, to save me from the abuse. I trust in my lord and I trust him with my life and fate," he pushed his sleeve up and demonstrated his mark. They all gasped at the sight of it.

Sensing their fear and uncertainty, he touched the mark and it moved, the snake slowly swayed under his fingers, flickering its tongue, "I know you are afraid. Don't be. Nobody is going to force you to torture and murder without a reason, you don't have to go out and burn down muggle villages, I promise you that. The only thing you are asked of is loyalty to the cause. You would have to fight when the time comes, you would have to fire curses at the other wizards, but it would be a fair battle. You will be heroes, not murderers."

The students shared looks between each other. Every one of them had lost someone in the war, everyone had someone else to loose. Krum stepped forward and took Eridanus' left hand, looking at the mark with a stone determination in his eyes, "I will take the mark, I will pledge myself to the Dark Lord."

"I know, Viktor," Eridanus smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"How come you got your mark so early?" a fair haired boy asked, frowning. "You're only fifteen, are you not?"

"I am, I was marked at thirteen." At their surprised stares, he elaborated, "I am a very powerful wizard, there is no point denying it, you saw me at the tournament. I was also the one who helped the Dark Lord to resurrect, so it was a reward of sorts," he shrugged his shoulders, smiling shyly.

"Why does the Dark Lord need us?" the white haired girl asked, coming closer and looking at the mark curiously.

"You all are powerful, extremely talented, intelligent wizards and witches, the headmaster Voronov personally chose you." The students looked befuddled and pleased at the same time. "We need you to help us fight for our cause, to help us to spread the word out, to look for those who would support our ideas. You are going to be our ambassadors, our force against the Light," Eridanus stood up, towering over most of them with his mighty hight, "Do you wish to make our world a better place for yourselves, your future children?"

They all nodded vehemently and he smiled brilliantly, drawing small, unsure smiles in reply. Voldemort smiled as well, marveling at the skillful tongue of his boy. Eridanus was so earnest, convincing, irresistible, in only few years he would be able to persuade any wizard with just one look, or sway of hips. The sheep would follow him blindly out of pure adoration, the intelligent ones would recognize his power and wisdom and would follow him out of respect and want to share his triumph. And all this belonged to Voldemort, all this was his doing, his legacy. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head. Soon he wouldn't need to do anything, simply reign and reap what Eridanus would sow for him.

"I would join too," Pascal Zabini stepped forward and gave the copper haired wizard a defiant glance. Eridanus nodded, smiling mirthfully. "Me too!" the fair haired boy called out. "And me! Me as well!" they all cried, trying to overcome each others' voices. Voldemort's lips stretched in a feral grin of triumph and satisfaction. He would mark them all right after they pass their exams. Barty and Eridanus would collect them and bring them to the fortress. No matter what the boy promised them, they would have to watch the torture and the brutal murder - it was a matter of cultivating a stamina and submission to his will.

"Now, I believe I owe Viktor one particularly nasty spell for maiming your enemies, who wants to learn it?" Eridanus smirked and barked out a laugh when everybody eagerly leaned forward, raising their hands high up in the air. "The spell incantation is 'sectumsempra' and for it to work efficiently, you must wave your wand in this pattern..."

**xxx**

One of the many lessons Voldemort and Eridanus had been supervising during the two days of their stay at Durmstrang was Dueling. Many older students wished to try their wands and skills against the infamous Lord Lestrange. The dueling instructor - professor Speer offered Eridanus to hold a competition instead of the ordinary lesson: those who would be able to stand against him longer than three minutes were to receive more points to their final marks, and those who would win against him were to automatically receive a top mark in their examination. Everybody moved to the Great Hall, the tables were cleared out and the whole student body gathered around the platform in the middle of the room, excited to see a real fight.

"No Unforgivables and no maiming curses, if you please, Mr Lestrange," Speer warned and Eridanus flashed him a shit eating grin in reply. He looked at the Dark Lord who sat down next to Voronov in the high throne like chair and was watching the proceedings in amusement. Catching his gaze Voldemort smirked at him and shifted to take a more comfortable, relaxed pose. Eridanus smiled at him, shaking his head. Trust his lord to be arrogant and smug in his confidence. It wasn't a battlefield, of course, but there was always a chance that he could be bested, but the Dark Lord didn't share his point of view.

Four students later Eridanus still stood on the platform, not even panting. He was calm and unaffected, while his opponents sweated and breathed harshly. When Speer came up to explain their mistakes to the audience, Voronov turned to his master, "My lord, is it safe to let Eridanus act so freely in public? What if the word would spread out during the summer? I could spell all the children to keep their mouths shut-"

"This would not be necessary," Voldemort waved his hand dismissively, cutting the headmaster off, "Even if they talk and even if the word reaches Hogwarts and the Order it wouldn't change a thing. We are already in the position where Eridanus' true alliance poses no danger to him. If Dumbledore finds out - we would simply take him out of the school."

"I see," Voronov nodded, watching the children chatter excitedly and Lord Lestrange calling for Krum to come up and duel him. "What of the Dark Arts teacher position, my lord? Who would replace me?"

"Barty," Voldemort smiled at his boy's predatory expression and feral grin, with which he welcomed his next opponent onto the platform. "He is young but very talented, intelligent man. I hate to keep him locked up at the fortress, he is dying of boredom I can tell. Here he would be safe behind the wards of the school and would be free to do what he likes the most. Besides, he is a nice company, I'm sure the children would find him interesting, inspiring even," he smirked, remembering the way Barty brutally killed his father at the tournament. Truly inspiring.

"Wouldn't you like to transfer Eridanus to Durmstrang to finish his education, my lord?" the headmaster asked, stroking his small black beard, "I know what a poor curriculum Hogwarts offers her students."

"I would have if it was necessary," Voldemort glanced at him briefly, "Eridanus could have easily become your new Dark Arts teacher, he possesses a vast knowledge and is, as you no doubt know, highly talented, as good at it as I am. But I am not willing to send him away, he must stay by my side. He is my second in command for a reason, Alexi, I am sure you understand."

"Yes, my lord," Voronov bowed his head respectfully. He would be an idiot not to understand that. While many foolishly thought that Eridanus gained his high rank and favoured position by sucking the Dark Lord's cock, he knew it was the last reason if the reason at all. No one in the Inner Circle knew the truth but they all could feel just how similar Eridanus' magic and aura was to their lord's, how much the boy resembled him in power, skills, personality, intelligence. As the professor and the expert of Dark Arts, Vorornov could tell that they shared much more than a master-servant and lovers' bonds. He couldn't be sure, but his intuition told him it had something to do with the soul magic. Then there was the fact that Eridanus, being even younger than he was now, managed to find their master and helped him to resurrect - The Dark Lord's state suggested that Eridanus sacrificed his own blood, most sacred possession of a wizard. Blood could not be shared freely with just anybody, it could be used against the wizard in most dangerous, horrible ways and yet the child gave it away, even though Voldemort was his supposed enemy, the one who killed his mother, the one who wanted to kill Eridanus himself. There was something more between them... Voronov was curious but knew better than to ask.

Of what he was sure though, was the fact that the two were in love. Love magic, often underestimated and classified as something insignificant, was one of the strongest and uncontrollable kinds, and it bound the Dark Lord, of all people, to the other human being, to his own ex-enemy no less. The thought made Voronov smile and he hid his grin behind his hand. Perhaps, his lord didn't care or didn't even realize just how different he looked and acted around the boy, how much he changed, how evident was his affection and love for Eridanus. Even now, though the man wore a mask of indifference, the headmaster could see the passion burn in those charmed teal eyes, could see the lecherous rose lips being slightly parted in anticipation and excitement, as a proud, smug smile made the corners of his mouth quirk ever so slightly. What an amusing sight it was.

"Come on, Viktor, you are better than this," Eridanus teased, sidestepping the seeker's stunner. Krum graced him with a vicious smile and fired an 'incendio', moving closer to the boy to set him on fire. Speer barked that Krum wouldn't get any points for that as he used a maiming curse, but Eridanus simply transformed the fire into water and stood there wet, laughing. He and Viktor took their stances once again and he fired first, sending a petrifying spell into the seeker's chest. Only years of quidditch practice saved Krum - he barely dodged the curse and fell down on the ground, sending a cutting and a binding hexes one by one, both of which the other boy easily deflected.

"Don't go all soft on me," Eridanus winked at him and Krum nodded, sending a blasting curse. Lestrange conjured a mirror shield and it flew back at the seeker. They kept exchanging curses, slowly going for the darker ones and Speer realized it was fruitless to waste his voice on warnings and simply stood by, watching the two intently, ready to cast a healing spell.

"Sectumsempra!" Krum threw Severus' curse at the copper haired wizard. Eridanus didn't even move, but smiled at the other boy and shook his head. He transfigured his outer robe into the thick plain armor and it creaked and broke under the hits of the spell but left him unharmed.

"A very nice transfiguration, Mr Lestrange," Speer praised, looking impressed, as were the other students. Lord Lestrange was just too fast for them.

"I didn't have the time to decorate it with a crest and ornaments, though," Eridanus drawled, feigning disappointment. He jumped when Krum sent a leg rotting curse and transfigured the boy's robe into a snake. While the seeker struggled to banish it, he looked at his pocket watch - they had already spent almost five minutes fighting, Krum was going to get a lot of points for this. Nodding to himself in satisfaction, Eridanus smiled at his finally freed opponent, "I would not cast a sectumsempra on you, Victor, I'm afraid professor Speer wouldn't be fast enough to save you, so I will end this duel in old-fashioned way. Expelliarmus!" Before Krum could use a counter-spell he was thrown high up in the air and blasted into the wall, while his wand was torn out of his hand and flew into Eridanus' open palm. The crowd cheered and disoriented, slightly green in the face seeker was pulled up by his peers.

"Well, I believe there is no one else who would stand against Mr Lestrange," Speer sighed, examining Krum's head for bruises. He let go of the boy when he found no injures and turned to the audience and caught the sight of Voldemort, smiling lazily to himself, sitting in his chair leisurely. "Maybe Lord Riddle would?" Speer suddenly suggested, "He seems to be an equal to Mr Lestrange in skill and power."

Eridanus looked at his lord expectantly, fighting the smile that was threatening to stretch his lips. Voldemort sighed in exasperation and stood up, seemingly reluctant to move at all. The students stepped aside to let his tall dark intimidating form forward, watching him in fear and awe - even though they didn't know he was the Dark Lord himself, his aura reeked of power and danger. He reached the platform in a few lazy strides and came up to stand opposite Eridanus, smirking at the boy. To others the two of them looked bored, however, Voldemort's eyes shone brightly and the tip of his tongue peeked out briefly to lick his lips in excited anticipation.

The next moment Eridanus jumped to the side, shielding himself, as his lord wordlessly threw a severe cutting curse. It wasn't as impressive as sectumsempra but it could cut anything, even armor, and the cuts were designed to be deep and most painful. The boy jumped up on his feet and, stomping his right foot firmly on the platform, swayed his arms to his sides, drawing circles with his wand in the air - the wooden planks creaked miserably, tore off their base and blew up like a wave, headily flying towards the Dark Lord. Eridanus waved his wand again and the wood transformed into the deadly sharp shards of glass. Voldemort grinned and threw his free hand up, freezing the glass wave in the air, while his right hand twirled his wand in a complex pattern. The shards trembled and rang weakly as he gathered them together and transformed them into a giant animated figurine of a cerberus he remembered from Hogwarts. Everybody gasped and Eridanus barked out a laugh of surprise and amusement. The three heads of the glass beast roared, as Voldemort ordered it to attack. However, the boy stood his ground, never moving away - he started whistling the waltz melody he and his lover danced to at the Yule Ball. Cerberus stopped and tilted its heads to the side, listening to music, his glass eyes already closing, lulled by the pleasant sounds. Eridanus slashed his wand through the air and blasted the beast, turning it into the dust.

"I still remember how to take care of cerberuses," he smirked at his lord and took his stance, arching his eyebrow, challenging the other wizard.

Voldemort hummed in amusement and smiled mischievously, "I knew you would appreciate the pun." He strode closer and simply took the ash wand out of Eridanus' hands. "I'd say I passed the Dueling examination, didn't I?" His boy only laughed at his antics and bowed respectfully.

"Yes, my lord," Eridanus whispered and, straightening up, took his wand back. Their fingers brushed against each other and he batted his eyelashes at his master.

Voldemort rolled his eyes and turned away to get off of the platform. "Insatiable brat," he murmured back affectionately.

**xxx**

On their last night at Durmstrang, Eridanus entered the Astronomy tower and slowly ascended the stairs. The classroom was huge, its windows wide and tall - the biggest ones he saw in the whole castle. The countless maps of the sky were scattered all over the walls and the ceiling, the drawn starts shone brightly, moving around ever so slightly, giving the whole space a mysterious look, drowning it in the gloomy darkness of the hastily dying dusk.

"Yet another dark wizard came for the answers," he heard a soft laugh behind him and turned around to see a tall portrait of Amicus Asteros. The wizard was seated behind his desk in what seemed like his old study. There was Galileo's bust on his right, and Copernicus' portrait behind him. A few visibly fresh maps were unrolled under his arms and Eridanus recognized his own constellation being drawn on one of them. "So, young lord Lestrange, would you like to discover your true destiny?" Amicus smiled at the boy in front of him, as his colourless eyes took on a faraway look.

"Isn't my destiny to stand by the Dark Lord Voldemort's side and aid him in his mission?" Eridanus frowned, annoyed with all the dramatic secrecy of the blonde wizard.

"Apparently, it is not," the other wizard murmured thoughtfully and tilted his head, tapping his chin with his long, ink stained finger. "You see, my little one, the stars told me that the Dark Lord Voldemort would meet his demise and YOU would take his place instead, to continue his work."

"What?" Eridanus felt as if his breath was knocked out of him. He shook his head in denial, staring at the impassive looking astronomer, who calmly watched him, seemingly used to violent reactions to his predictions. "Did you tell T... Did you tell Voldemort about it?"

"No," Amicus smiled coldly, "He had received his own prediction when he came for it, he never asked or another. However, I must admit, I am surprised with how everything changed," he looked into his green eyes so intently, Eridanus would have thought the man to be a legilimence if he wasn't a portrait. "Tell me, what happened? You were supposed to be the master, not the servant," Amicus drawled quietly, still watching him, as if trying to solve a difficult puzzle.

"I am not a servant, I am equal to my lord..." Eridanus began but halted, frowning at the initial question. His mind suddenly became overwhelmed with the long buried memories of his ambiguous dreams, of his desire for limitless power, complete control, for dominance... The hat had warned him at the sorting to be careful what he wished for, it told him he reminded it of Tom... Eridanus grabbed on his hair in desperation, forcing the images of his younger self torturing other children to subside and get in the order, he held onto his darkness, trying to clear his mind, to hide everything behind the occlumency shields.

Suddenly exhausted, he fell down on his knees before the portrait and hang his head. "I fell in love," he whispered hoarsely and looked up to meet the withered eyes of the astronomer. He never really realized how much he truly changed after he met Tom. His prerogatives changed, his life goals twisted, his own personality was transformed it seemed. It hurt so badly inside, suddenly bringing forth anger and bitterness he thought he would never have to experience again.

Amicus creased his eyebrows slightly, as if the image of the defeated dark lord in making pained him and after a long pause finally said, "No." At Eridanus pleading look, that begged for an answer, he sighed, "HE fell in love and his love for you would be his true downfall."

The tears threatened to stream down his cheeks and Eridanus gave in, too weak to fight them. "It cannot be," he sobbed, "I healed him, I gave him his sanity back, as it was said in the prophecy. I was supposed to help to bring back the balance," he hid his face in his hands, as his shoulders shook violently.

"Lord Lestrange," Amicus' voice was soft but cold, unforgiving, "Stop this at once and listen to me very carefully." He kept silent, waiting for the boy to rub the tears away and take a few shuddering breaths to regain his composure. Satisfied, the astronomer nodded, "What I am telling you is what I read forty five years ago when Voldemort came to me. You see, your fates were entwined long before that prophesy of yours, whatever it says," he waved his hand dismissively, "Regardless, something had changed. Something, not my predictions, nor your prophesy could possibly foresee. And that is what interests me. It is something that made you submit to Voldemort, that made you want to serve him, that changed both yours and his destinies. That changed you. You do know your aura is almost perfectly identical to his, don't you?" Amicus looked intrigued and perplexed at the same time.

Eridanus stared at the floor, trying to gather his wits. He turned everything the astronomer said over and over again, rocking his body slowly, trying to compensate for the horrible pain that seemed to linger in his chest. His darkness enveloped him into a soothing embrace that reminded so much of Tom's loving hands, he wanted to lean into them and forget all about the blasted prophesies and... His head shot up sharply and he stared at the portrait in front of him, feeling his lips stretching into an evil smile.

At Amicus' inquiringly raised eyebrows, he chuckled hysterically, "His immortality." He shook his head, rubbing on the reddened eyes, laughing at his own stupidity and softness. Crying like some bloody girl. Pathetic. "The way he gained his immortality, I am a part of it. This is what had changed. Instead of killing me, he made me his walking life insurance."

"Could you tell me what had he done to become immortal?" the astronomer asked hopefully, his eyes shining with hunger for knowledge, "I keep many horrible secrets, as well as yours and your lord's, I would keep this one as well."

Eridanus contemplated him for a moment and then nodded. "I think I can tell you, it wouldn't give away any important details," he sighed heavily, gathering his strength. "Voldemort created horcruxes, several, " he heard Amicus gasp at that and looked up to see the wizard's horrified expression. "Yes, well, that's where it gets better - I am one of them."

"A living horcrux?" Asteros almost fell out of his chair, so sharp was his motion when he leaned forward, as if trying to get a better look at the boy. "Your infamous scar, his mark, it is the mark of a horcrux, isn't it," he murmured, staring at Eridanus in fascination.

"Yes. I harbor a part of his soul, it merged with mine, that is why our auras and magic are so similar, that is why I... am submissive," he frowned and rubbed on his scar, feeling his lord trying to read his emotions. He kept him away.

"Amazing," the astronomer gasped, "In his insanity Voldemort created a paradox, twisting the prophesy and his own fate... My, my, what an unexpected turn of events! I sincerely regret I was so foolish to die so early, I would have loved to witness the two of you bring this world down on it's knees..." he watched Eridanus in awe, moving his thin white lips silently, as if reciting the names of the stars.

"This change... does it mean he wouldn't die because of me?" Eridanus hated his voice for being so small, so insecure bit couldn't change how he felt. And he felt scared and helpless.

"I wouldn't want to give you false hope. I am sorry but I do not know, little one," Amicus smiled sadly and his hand twitched slightly, as if in an attempt to comfort the crestfallen wizard with a touch. "The stars are silent, they do not know your fate anymore. However," he said louder, to make Eridanus look at him, "Do not fear and do not loose hope. Your love, that might be his downfall, might very well be his salvation. Every time he made a horcrux, Voldemort cheated death, cheated his fate, there is no way to predict what would happen now, you see."

Eridanus pursed his lips, biting his own tongue, trying to overcome the pain in his soul. He tasted blood in his mouth and closed his eyes resentfully, feeling his self-loathing choking him. Whatever his own dreams and desires might be, he wasn't going to let his lord down, he wasn't going to let Tom die. He swore wholeheartedly, with an outmost sincerity and love that he would not let any of the stupid prophesies or predictions affect their lives. They were the masters of their fate, that was one for the two of them. All that Eridanus knew was that he couldn't live without Tom, it was impossible, so even if he were to continue his work, to bear his legacy, he couldn't imagine how he would do that, being broken and mostly dead.

He and Amicus spent the rest of the sleepless night in companionable silence, until at dawn Voldemort came into the classroom, scowling at them. He bent down and took Eridanus by the chin to push his head up and look into his tear-stained face. At the sight of the salty lines covering his cheeks, his face twisted in fury and he glared at the astronomer and was going to spat something acid but Amicus shook his head and gestured at the boy, asking the Dark Lord to let it go. Voldemort turned back to Eridanus, who was looking at him with such pain and love, he had to tighten his grip on the beautiful sad face to restrain himself from doing something that he could only do in private, between the two of them. He took a deep calming breath and pulled his boy up and gathered him into his arms.

"The child had been blessed by the stars, Voldemort," the astronomer called after them when they were already at the stairs, "Keep him safe."

Voldemort said nothing, simply led Eridanus out and into their guest quarters. When they arrived, he walked his boy over to bed which was unmade. Eridanus frowned at the sight, noting absentmindedly that his lord had probably stayed awake the whole night waiting for him. He wanted to say something, to ask for forgiveness, but Voldemort's face looked so pale and concentrated, he felt he lost all the words he wished to say. His master slowly undressed him, taking great care in unbuttoning his robe, his vest, shirt; he took off his trousers and pants; let his plait loose, carding his fingers through the long copper locks, enjoying their softness under his skin. He never looked into his eyes, simply watched his face, tracing the dried tears with his cold, somewhat saddened eyes. Voldemort took Eridanus by the hand and pulled him down onto the bed and under the covers. He then undressed himself and slid to lie next to his boy, circling his arms around the narrow waist, craving the skin on skin contact. It all happened in deafening silence, which unnerved Eridanus, he felt the urge to scream but was too weak for that.

"How bad is it?" he heard Voldemort whisper, his words sounded strained and ominous at the same time.

Smiling despite himself, Eridanus pulled him tighter into embrace and looked straight into the blood red eyes, "He scared me at first but then I remembered how much I love you and everything fell in its right place." He kissed him softly on the mouth and smiled again when he felt a quiet sigh of relief escape his lover's lips. "He told me nothing new," Eridanus lied but put so much faith in his own words that for a second believed them himself.

"Why haven't you come back?" Voldemort growled lowly, "I've been waiting for you for the whole night."

"I'm sorry, Tom, I got... carried away," Eridanus smiled apologetically and snuggled closer, reveling in the coolness of his lover's body and hands, that couldn't stop tracing the lines of his body. "Why didn't you go to bed without me? You shouldn't have stayed-"

"I can't sleep without you," his lord cut him off and buried his face into the copper hair, "Now sleep, we need some rest." Eridanus didn't object and almost instantly fell asleep, lulled by the steady heartbeat in Voldemort's chest. The Dark Lord, however, lay awake for a long time. He knew that Amicus told Eri something really devastating, for his boy never cried. But he wasn't going to press him, Eri would tell him eventually.

**xxx**

On the morning of their departure Eridanus slowly walked by the shore, watching the clouds reflect in the black water of the White Lake. A pleasant chilling wind blew from the mountains and he shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself.

He sat down, in the shadows casted by the tall walls, watching the water lazily wash over the thick sand and short grass. The rays of sun danced merrily on the smooth black surface. He felt calm, in complete harmony with the world, as if there were no problems, no muggles, no fights between the light and the dark wizards, no school, only the blissfulness of this exact moment, of the nature's magic. He heard light steps behind and didn't have to turn to guess who it was. A cool soft hand stroked his hair and Eridanus sighed, closing his eyes, tilting his head back a little, to lean into the touch. Voldemort bent down and kissed him on the scarred forehead, and sat down beside him, stretching out his long thin legs. Although he didn't turn to see his master's face, Eridanus thought he looked very young now, sitting so casually next to another young man, watching him shamelessly, hungrily. If their bodies reflected their souls, as Dumbledore said, than Tom's soul was truly youthful and beautiful, if a little twisted. Eridanus snorted at the thought. Yes, his own soul must have been ugly and maimed from all the crimes he committed and yet he was a rather attractive man.

He felt a hand on his thigh, sliding slowly up and down. "Do you think those children would suffice? They all are quite powerful and talented," Eridanus asked, purring in pleasure. The hand pressed firmer and traveled all the way up to his groin.

"Yes, they are worthy of being our ambassadors and they would be quite useful in the battle," Voldemort murmured into his ear, Eridanus felt he was smiling. "Krum is a very talented duelist, not as good as you, of course, but still an interesting opponent," the Dark Lord snaked his hand under the layers of the fighting robe and pushed it inside the tight trousers. "Don't you find him... alluring?" he purred, licking the boy's ear.

Eridanus laughed, shifting to give the hand a better access to his growing erection. He could hear a clear warning in the seductive tone of his lord. "No, Viktor is a good friend, nothing more. Besides, he is as straight as they come. And you, my lord," he turned to bump his nose against Voldemort's, placing a fleeting kiss on his lecherous lips, "Are going to be famous for your insane jealousy in the second war."

The hand squeezed his balls painfully. "Well, forgive me, love, but you got me worried there with Severus, you know," Voldemort muttered, breathing harshly. "The older you are, the more alluring you become, I have to watch you like a hawk. Not that I don't like watching you..." he trailed off, biting into Eridanus' mouth and freeing the hard flesh out of the tight clothes.

"How about teaching me a lesson in obedience in the cold black water of the lake?" Eridanus gasped out and grabbed his lord's robe to push it open. Voldemort didn't answer, tearing his clothes off instead, growling like a wild animal into their passionate kiss. He didn't need to be asked twice. Sex in the freezing water was quick and violent, but pleasant nevertheless.

"It is so nice here," Eridanus murmured as they lay half naked on the grass, wrapped in each other's robes, basking in the warmth of the sun.

"Let's go home, Eri," his lord sighed. "We are finished here, no need to debauch the young students' minds any further."

"Home is where you are, Tom," Eridanus purred, smiling at him mischievously, as his eyes shone brightly, mesmerizingly.

"Oh shut it!" Voldemort growled lowly, but couldn't hide his own smile, that tagged on the corners of his lips. He grabbed his boy and, pressing him tighter to his body, apparated away.

**xxx**

Eridanus woke up with a start as he heard a loud barking. Sitting up on the bed he drew his wand in a flash almost at the same time as Voldemort did. They both were staring at the huge translucent werewolf standing in their bedroom - Sirius' patronus. Having let out a breath, Eridanus relaxed and reached out for the beast and heard his godfather's voice, "Eri, Dumbledore is coming through the floo, says he is taking you somewhere. I told him Remus took you out for coffee and donuts but there is not much longer he would be waiting. Come asap." He sprang up on his feet and burst the wardrobe's doors open to take out his plain emerald robe.

"Coffee and donuts? Seriously?" Voldemort wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"It actually takes time to get to the muggle corner shop a block away from Grimmauld's and wait for the coffee to be prepared. It's the best excuse Sirius was able to come up with at such short notice," Eridanus grumbled, buttoning up his trousers and shirt, while his robe swirled around him chaotically, "You know very well I have to keep up the pretense of being a muggle-lover." Voldemort huffed and fell back on the pillows, closing his eyes contentedly.

"Keep our mind link open, I will be with you shortly," he murmured when Eridanus opened the door to leave.

"Of course."

Dumbledore was sitting at the table in their kitchen, drinking tea, when Eridanus and Remus came through the front door, carrying the blasted donuts and three tall cups in their hands. Sirius visibly relaxed when he saw them and gratefully downed his coffee in four large gulps.

"These sweet buns seem to be very popular among muggles," Dumbledore drawled, eyeing the donuts curiously. Eridanus gave him a shy smile and held a box out for him, offering to take one. The old wizard lightened up as the horrible chemical sugar coated his tongue and Lestrange inwardly shuddered - he could never eat these things after he had tasted them for the first time. He had never had a sweet tooth and donuts were simply a sugary abomination.

"So, sir, you said you were going to take me somewhere?" he asked tentatively, sipping his black bitter coffee with mint flavor. His lord never understood how could he drink this "muck" as he called it. In Eridanus' orphanage it was quite common for children to drink cheap shitty coffee since it was cheaper than tea, and although he loved tea and enjoyed it greatly, the habit of drinking black coffee never ceased and he found it still helped him concentrate, even though he had all those potions and magical concoctions at hand.

"Ah, yes, my boy," Dumbledore licked his fingers and his eyes twinkled maddeningly, "I take it you had enough time to think over everything we had discussed earlier and would agree in aiding me?" At the boy's affirmative, modest nod he smiled triumphantly. "Great news, Eridanus, I never doubted you. Now, today I would like to take you with me on a visit to a good old friend of mine, I wish to ask him to come back teaching at Hogwarts and I think it would be useful for you to meet him."

Useful for you, Eridanus snorted inwardly, but nodded nevertheless. "Alright, sir."

"Nothing dangerous!" the headmaster raised his hands up defensively when Sirius opened his mouth to express his opinion. Lord Black shut it with a loud clack of his teeth, looking all but pleased with the notion that Eridanus was going on a mission with a man who was going to kill him one way or another. "I will bring him back soon," the old man assured them and ushered the boy to the fireplace.

They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and from there they apparated to a small town somewhere at the western shore of the country. While they walked down the stony road to the end of the town, Albus decided to give the boy some clues of what they were doing.

"We are visiting Horace Slughorn, an old colleague of mine. He is the potions master who used to teach at Hogwarts for many years before professor Snape, he taught your parents and even Tom Riddle."

"But why would you ask him to come back? And where would professor Snape go?" Eridanus asked, giving the old wizard a speculative look - Severus said nothing about any changes in his position, so it could only mean that Dumbledore never told him he might loose his job.

"Ah, you see, my boy, Horace was the Head of the Slytherin House during all the years he taught at the school and he was particularly close with Tom, as a teacher and a mentor could be, I think he might know of something concerning horcruxes," Albus said carefully, watching the boy's face which was pale and impassive. So much like Riddle's when he was of the same age... he shivered at the thought and averted his eyes to look ahead. "And professor Snape would finally get his long desired position of the DADA teacher," he added with a small smile, "But do not worry, he would remain the head of your house of course."

Severus desired to never teach again, but that was beyond the point of their discussion and Eridanus gave the headmaster a confused look instead, "But how may I be of help in persuading professor Slughorn to come back?"

"I'm sure his heart would melt when he meets the famous Savior of the wizarding world and the son of his favourite student," Albus laughed softly, "Horace adored Lily and helped her greatly to become a healer. He left after she died, devastated with what had happened. I believe he blamed himself," he gave the boy a strange look.

"Blamed himself?" Eridanus raised his eyebrows and heard Voldemort snort in his head.

"Well, that is what I would like to find out. I have a theory that he was the one who told Tom about the horcruxes and he might know the exact number Tom decided to create. He blames himself for creating the monster Voldemort became," the headmaster sighed and stopped before the small orange cottage. He pushed the small gate open and firmly strode to the front door. Eridanus followed him, probing around for wards - there were none.

At Dumbledore's loud knocking the door opened and a small fat head appeared from behind it. The balding, sweating, short man stood at the threshold, glaring at the tall colourful form of his previous colleague and boss. "Good day and the hell are you doing here, Albus?" Slughorn squeaked out, reddening furiously. Eridanus rolled his eyes and sighed - just another petty excuse of a wizard. His magic was grey and dull, how had he been able to act as the Head of Slytherin for so many years was beyond him. And beyond Voldemort as well, judging by the waves of disgust that came from him.

"Good day, Horace, I was hoping you would invite us for a cup of tea, to have a nice civil conversation as old friends," Dumbledore smiled at him charmingly.

"Us?" Slughorn tensed and peeked from behind the older wizard to look at Eridanus. His eyes almost burst out, so wide they got at the sight of him. Having instantly recognized the boy by the scar and undeniable resemblance with Lily Evans and the Lestrange brothers, the potions master swallowed hard and silently beckoned his guests inside. "I-I haven't expected any visitors, you understand," he mumbled, spelling the teapot hot. The small living room they were ushered in was almost bare, most books and furniture packed, only a few chairs left standing amidst the countless boxes and packages.

"Going somewhere?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in feigned disinterest.

Slughorn poured the hot tea with shaking hands and looked up at the headmaster, "In fact I am," he said defiantly but suddenly cowed and tensed again when he caught Eridanus' intent, examining look. "With You-Kn-Know-Wh-Who back, it is not safe for me to stay here, you know," he stammered, sipping out of his cup nervously. Lestrange never touched his tea, staring at the fat man all the while. His lord hadn't said anything yet but he knew, he could feel that Slughorn was hiding something and it was imperative to shut him up before he gave up anything to Dumbledore.

"You would be safe at Hogwarts, Horace, you know that," Albus said quietly, giving him a pointed look. "Besides, Eridanus here is the Chosen One, as you well know, in just a few years he would be ready to fight Voldemort and would, no doubt, safe us all once again."

"Don't! Don't say his name in my presence!" Slughorn cried, dropping his cup on the floor. It cracked and broke in two halves. "I do not wish to hear anything about that... that monster!" he sounded hysterical. Yes, he was definitely blaming himself and he definitely held some important information.

"There is no point in fearing the name," Albus sighed and lowered his eyes to look into his cup. They spent a few minutes in an awkward silence before he rose up. "Would you tell me where one can find the loo in this house? I'd say your herbal tea is affecting my stomach rather viciously," although he spoke to Slughorn, his eyes were trained on Eridanus and were twinkling at him encouragingly. It was his turn to try and persuade the stubborn potions master.

After Slughorn mumbled the directions and Dumbledore went out, Eridanus wandlessly casted silencing charm and leaned closer to the fat wizard, "It is not your fault, you know," he said softly and met the scared wet brown eyes, that were staring at him as if he was a ghost, "You don't have to blame yourself for what had happened to my mother. I don't blame you."

"You don't know what you are talking about!" Slughorn hissed desperately, "You have no idea what I have done! Me, I am responsible for all this," he waved at the lightning bolt scar helplessly and slumped in his seat, looking defeated.

"Professor," Eridanus took his trembling hand and rubbed the skin soothingly, trying to meet the man's eyes again. He felt there was something more about it all. "Why won't you tell me what happened. I am sure I would be just the right person to tell you if you were truly at fault," he whispered, leaning closer and closer, until the brown eyes locked with his bright green ones and he plunged into the wizard's unprotected mind. It was a true wonder how Slughorn could know so much about dark arts and be so pathetically useless at them. His occlumency shields were strong, but not strong enough for a Lestrange, especially when he was casting compulsion charms along the way. He felt as the walls trembled and softly dissipated under his pressure.

He saw young Tom, even younger than he was on a photograph in the school photo book, staying after one of the Slughorn's gatherings. The sweet, charming boy batted his long eyelashes at his Head of House and spoke to him softly, shyly. He asked about the horcruxes and the potions master eagerly told him about the danger and delicacy of this particularly dark, evil art. The man's cheeks turned red when Tom came closer and touched him on the arm ever so slightly, suggestively. The boy bit his lower lip and gave the older wizard a most trusting, faithful look he could master and asked how many horcruxes could a wizard create. Slughorn, who was already hot and tagging on the tight collar of his robes rather uncomfortably, mumbled something about the impossibility of splitting the soul in more than two halves, about the lack of a more thorough research on the matter... Tom circled him slowly, predatorily, just like he always did when he anticipated to deliver a torture, and touched him on the other arm, more firmly. He asked if it was possible to create seven horcruxes, since the number was the most magical in the theory of arithmacy and proved to be the most powerful of all. Confused and drunk on the boy's allure Slughorn gave the future Dark Lord the fateful answer: yes, it was theoretically plausible. He was pecked on the cheek and when Tom slowly left, throwing knowing, mocking looks back at him, Slughorn ran off to the bathroom to relieve himself of the painful tightness in his trousers.

When Eridanus left the older wizard's mind, he obliviated him and planted a thought in his head, that he decided to indulge Dumbledore. When the headmaster returned, babbling about the amazing soap that he found in the bathroom, he found both Eridanus and Slughorn sipping their tea in silence, the potions master giving the boy adoring looks.

"You know what, Albus, I decided I would go to Hogwarts after all," Slughorn angrily put his cup down on the tattered coffee table, "Eridanus is right, I should not hide like a coward, besides, the school is really safe and I could do so much to help the poor slytherins who would be no doubt shunned because of their parentage," he looked at the boy sympathetically and apologetically at the same time.

"Well, that is great news, my friend," Albus was pleasantly surprised. He knew the boy could be persuasive and convincible, charming, just like Voldemort once was, but he never thought the child would wrap Horace around his finger so easily. Perhaps, his resemblance with Lily had worked even better than he anticipated. "I will be glad to see you at the school as soon as you are ready. I will notify Severus of his new position when you arrive."

"Yes, yes, I will come in three days," Slughorn nodded, repeating the words Eridanus forced on him, "I still have some packing to do and a few requested potions to brew."

"Of course, of course, take your time, Horace," Dumbledore smiled from behind his cup.

When they left, the headmaster turned to look at Eridanus, as they were walking up the road, back to the apparition point. "How did you make him see reason, Eridanus?" he asked, smiling mirthfully.

"I told him I don't blame him, that it wasn't his fault, that he shouldn't be afraid, that he should believe you and rely on you as I do," he answered softly, giving the headmaster a faithful and trusting look of his own, that could rival with Tom's. His lord silently applauded him in his mind.

"Why, thank you, my boy," Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder, looking very pleased with himself. Eridanus inwardly gaged and restrained his darkness from showing itself and its awful temper.

**xxx**

As soon as the headmaster dropped him off at the Grimmauld's, Eridanus waved Sirius and Remus off, saying he had some work to do. He summoned his death eater's robes and mask and began changing right in front of them. Both men shared a horrified look but not one of them dared to say anything. They watched, mesmerized, as Eridanus braided his hair in a plait of a fighting type, as he tightened the laces of his high boots, as he threw his hood over his head and put on the golden mask. The mask was what shocked Sirius the most - his godson had been already taken into the Inner Circle, he must have been the youngest wizard to be granted such generosity. He caught his breath as he watched the boy, who wasn't a boy anymore, but a coldblooded murderer, vanish into the thin air and felt as the cold, heavy weight settled in his gut. How easily it was for Eridanus to go out and simply kill a human being. Sirius felt sick and had to grab Remus on the arm. His friend hugged him and was comforting him for a long, long time.

Eridanus hid in the nearby woods and watched the orange cottage until the sun had set. "You know what to do," his lord said after he left Slughorn earlier. There was nothing else to say, really, it was obvious that the old potions master had to be dealt with as soon as possible. He was perched on a thick branch, covered by the dark crown of leaves, contemplating how would he kill Slughorn. He had to make it look like he left and simply never got to Hogwarts. It wasn't hard to destroy his belongings, and his corpse could be probably hidden in his own cellar.

While the minutes were ticking away, he couldn't help but get back to the memory of a young Tom. What a seductive little devil he was, however, not as breathtaking as he was now. He could understand the old fat idiot to come from a simple touch from the youth, that was tempting in his innocence and dark desires written in his bright teal eyes. However, Eridanus himself was more interested in older Tom, mature Tom, Tom that had years of life behind him, that held wisdom and so much power in his lustful blood red eyes. Of course he would have fallen for the charming, sweetly shy boy of his own age, but he couldn't see the two of them as lovers. Sighing, he tried to clear his head from the naughty thoughts, that his imagination helpfully provided with rather vivid illustrations. He wanted to overpower the Tom he knew and loved now, he wanted to dominate him, to have control over the pain and pleasure he could give him...

Snapping out of his musings, Eridanus jumped down harshly, soundlessly landing onto the tall soft grass. It was already dark and the young moon was slowly coming from behind the heavy clouds. The air was heavy and dump - a few fat drops tapped on the golden mask and when Eridanus turned the doorknob and entered the house, the rain was already showering outside. He smoothly glided through the dark rooms, following his darkness that led him towards the other wizard. Slughorn sat in his bedroom in the old armchair, reading a potions journal. He jerked and looked up sharply when the door creaked open and he screamed as the tall dark figure wearing the mask he knew too well came closer. Before he could move to apparate, he was immobilized and his wand was snapped in half.

"Wh-who are you?! What do you want? I never said anything!" he cried, struggling in vain. His red face turned slowly purple as he tensed and screamed, but Eridanus stood calmly, simply watching him.

When the potions master finally shut up, unable to scream anymore, he took off his mask, "Are you quite done?"

"Eridanus?!" Slughorn gasped and suddenly the memory of being under the legilimency came back to him and he stared at the boy in horror, holding his breath.

"Tom sends his best regards," Eridanus smiled, twirling his ash wand in his hands, "And a kiss," he blew one for him and laughed at the pained, disgusted expression on the old face. "Why, Horace, you seemed all too eager to get something more than an innocent peck on the cheek back then, didn't you?" The potions master only whimpered weakly, his lips trembled foully. "Whatever, you are not going to see another day," Eridanus shrugged his shoulders and stepped closer, his knees touching Slughorn's.

"Oh, and by the way," he smiled brilliantly at the cowed, terrified wizard before him, "It is your fault, and you are responsible for my mother's death," he pushed his wand against the man's greying temple, "Crucio."

Reveling in the sounds of hoarse screams, Eridanus bent down to look into the wide unfocused brown eyes, surrounded by the web of pulsing veins and vessels, blackened by the vicious curse. He entered the unprotected mind and plunged into the memories of the past.

He saw Slughorn watching Tom out of the corner of his eyes, licking his lips and trying in vain to suppress his inappropriate, lustful thoughts. Tom would look up at him from time to time and give him a knowing look and a mocking smirk, however, the poor old potions master would not understand it and take it for a shameless flirting. He saw Slughorn masturbating during the breaks between the classes, fantasizing about the young Tom Riddle standing on his knees before him. Disgusted, Eridanus shifted through the other memories. He found one of his mother. Lily sat at the gathering of the Slug's Club, the only gryffindor and muggleborn in the midst of slytherins and ravenclaws, bored to death with all the small talk of the haughty purebloods. Surprisingly, she was watching the young Rabastan, who was also silent and distant from the chatter, and lay in the armchair, staring at the ceiling, quite comfortable with his oh so plebeian position. Lily smiled at him. The two of them looked so much alike, it was surreal. Her eyes never left his form, while Slughorn's never left hers. Fortunately, he wasn't attracted to her sexually, but in a more protective fatherly way, seeing her as a daughter he never had.

There was a memory of Lily coming to Slughorn's house, carrying a small child in which Eridanus recognized himself. She looked exhausted, battered, wet from walking in the rain. Ushering her inside, Slughorn led her to the fireplace. The little Eridanus was soundly asleep in her arms and she was watching him with pained, tearful eyes. She told Slughorn that James Potter wasn't his father, she went as far as to tell him that his father was a dark wizard and that the boy was born dark as well. The old potions master looked at her in horror, but, of course, never turned her away. She cried and begged him to help her, to help protect her son she knew would be killed by either Voldemort or Dumbledore himself when he found out about his true nature and parentage. It was Slughorn who showed her the spell, explained how it worked. It was dark magic, a powerful blood magic of self sacrifice. Even if Voldemort never killed Lily, but casted the killing curse at Eridanus, she would have died anyway, having had exchanged her life for his long before that fateful halloween night. Eridanus watched, mesmerized, as she and Slughorn drew the necessary circles and symbols on the floor, chanted the latin incantations, as Lily cut her wrist and let her blood drip on the child's forehead. She killed herself that night. The next morning she left her mentor and teacher, seeing him for the last time in her life. Lily gave him a letter, she begged him to send it to the addressee should something happen to her. Only Slughorn never did. The bastard read it and destroyed it instantly. The old wizard was shaken to his very core by its contents. It was addressed to Rabastan Lestrange, in it Lily told him he was the father of the Child of the Prophesy, she asked him to take the child and hide him, raise him as a dark wizard and never let him near Dumbledore and other light wizards.

Eridanus moved away sharply, canceling the curse and watching bleeding and crying Slughorn in fury. His whole body trembled, as his fingers curled and the sharp fingernails dug into the skin of his palms, drawing blood. This, this petty, nosy wizard was the reason his father never found him and went to prison. If only the fat bastard had sent the letter, he would have never suffered, would have never spent his life with those abominable muggles... Squeezing his eyes shut, as a lump in his throat started choking him, Eridanus turned away, breathing loudly through his nose.

"Had you told Dumbledore about the letter then?" he bit out, when he managed to tame his darkness and pull himself together.

Slughorn slowly slid down onto the flor, whimpering in pain weakly, and rolled his head to the side. "N-no," he mumbled, barely forcing his swollen tongue to move.

"How very smart of you," Eridanus spat and bent down to grab the grey thin hair. "I will leave some parts of your body intact then, you bastard!" He put his wand away and glared at the trembling, wailing wizard in front of him, "You have no fucking idea what I had to go through because of you, you fat fuck! You will pay!" he roared and let go of him harshly, taking a few steps back. Before Slughorn managed to let out a mere squeak of horror, Eridanus turned into the panther and leaped forward. To hell with hiding the corpse, he decided, this man didn't deserve such generosity. The sharp fangs and claws of the wild cat tore at the soft flesh as the last high-pitched screams rang in the air.

**xxx**

Eridanus came back to the fortress covered in blood and pieces of flesh and insides. Scowling darkly he marched into the Ceremonial Hall but Voldemort wasn't there. He met the sight of the few wizards of the Inner Circle instead. They sat in the comfortable armchairs around the small table, hunched over the map. Bellatrix, who had recently recovered but was still unable to speak, jumped out of her seat and backed away in horror when she noticed him. Ever since she awoke she kept her distance from her nephew-in-law, and seeing him covered in somebody's remains almost make her black out. She feared him just as much as her lord, if not more. Everybody turned sharply, noticing Bella's frantic cowering, and stood up, moving to help him.

Eridanus raised his hand to stop them, "This is not mine. I was looking for our lord. Continue with whatever you've been doing," he sighed tiredly and walked away, rubbing on his eyes. He stopped at the doors when felt a firm grip on his elbow.

"Eri, what happened?" he turned to look at his father, who took his blooded face in his hands and frowned at him in concern. Rodolphus was hovering from behind his brother, not at all pleased with his nephew's state.

"As far as I know, you were supposed to kill the old pervert Slughorn," his uncle drawled, "But I see you turned the simple execution into a bloodshed. Care to share what happened?"

Eridanus really didn't want to talk about it and closed his eyes in exhaustion. "Do we have a pensieve? I don't have enough strength to explain right now..."

"Yes," Rabastan nodded and Rodolphus summoned the wide golden dish that smoothly glided into his hands. Sighing, Eridanus pushed his ash wand against his temple and drew the long silvery substance out and dropped it into the water.

"I need a bath," he breathed out, feeling his father cast a cleaning charm to get rid of Slughorn's flesh. "Just watch this, we can discuss it later." Reluctantly, Rabastan let go of him and stepped back, frowning, watching his son intently. He could physically sense the pain and unease coming in waves from the boy, but he knew better than to press him about the source of his misery right now. Sharing a look of understanding, the Lestrange brothers silently left, levitating the pensieve behind them.

Eridanus stumbled into the bathroom and banished his clothes and mask. He lowered himself into the hot bath and slid down to push his head under the water. He lay very still, holding his breath, feeling his skin soften in the milky liquid. Just when he ran out of oxygen, he was gently pulled up by the shoulders. He looked up to see Voldemort watching him worriedly.

"I'm fine," he croaked, but his master was having none of it. The Dark Lord plunged into his mind and forced him to show the recent memory. Eridanus winced in pain but was too tired to fight.

"I am sorry, Eri," Voldemort murmured, and caressed his wet face with his long fingers gently, looking at his boy sadly.

"I'm fine, Tom," he repeated, sounding unconvincing. Voldemort shook his head and took him out of the water and carried him into their bedroom. Still wet and shivering, Eridanus was laid on the soft sheets and momentarily covered by the surprisingly hot body of his lord. Gasping in pleasure, he embraced Voldemort tightly, whimpering into the gentle, comforting kiss. His master could be so caring and affectionate, he melted under his tender caresses.

"Don't dwell on the past, my little one," Voldemort whispered, "Forget about it all, you are here with me, nothing else matters."

"Yes," Eridanus purred into their kiss and spread his thighs, pushing the painful memories away, concentrating on here and now, on the pleasure of being with his lover, on the desire to be taken and loved. The Dark Lord eagerly pushed his fingers inside the tight entrance, brushing over the prostate, drawing loud moans from his boy. All too soon Eridanus was almost finished, groaning and withering underneath him and Voldemort thrusted his hard cock into the stretched anus, growling and biting on the tender skin of the boy's throat. Crying out in ecstasy, Eridanus came, overwhelmed and exhausted, but pleasantly sated. He kept moving rhythmically along with his lover, as his mind was enveloped in a dark haze of lust and blissfulness. Smiling, he caught Voldemort's mouth in a passionate, painful kiss as the man shuddered, coming inside of him, moaning his name as a sacred prayer.

"You are too tired," he heard an accusatory whine and chuckled into the firm shoulder of his master.

"You may ravish me while I sleep, my lord," Eridanus laughed.

"No, thank you, I will wait until the morning," Voldemort snorted. He pulled his boy into a tight embrace and sighed in contentment, inhaling his scent deeply.

"Thank you," he heard Eridanus whisper against his lips.

"What for?"

"For caring for me, for being so kind, for... being you," Eridanus chuckled and nuzzled his face into the crook of Voldemort's neck.

"You are welcome," the Dark Lord drawled smugly, laughing softly. There was no need to thank him for something he loved doing so much.

**xxx**

Five days had passed since his visit to Slughorn and the potions master never came to Hogwarts. Sighing tiredly, Dumbledore flooed to Hogsmead and apparated into the town his colleague lived in. Why was it always so difficult with Horace? As soon as he entered the orange cottage he knew something was very wrong. All the boxes, packages and pieces of furniture were in their places just as he saw them the last time, however, the vast collection of books and scrolls was gone. The headmaster frowned, still sensing unease in his gut, as if he knew that it wasn't Slughorn who took them. He walked into the laboratory in the basement - the potions and ingredients were gone as well, but the expensive cauldrons, pests and knives were left behind. Knowing how greedy the potions master was, to Dumbledore it was obvious that something bad had happened. With a heavy heart he walked up the stairs and stopped at the closed door that led into the bedroom. Here was a blood spatter on its white surface, it went all the way up to the handle. Squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath, the headmaster spelled the door open, knowing very well what would be waiting for him on the other side.

Slughorn was barely recognizable, only his head was left intact with his maimed body, while the legs and the arms were torn into pieces and scattered all over the place. The insides were ripped out of his stomach and merrily, if one could describe it that way, hung from the canopy of the bed. Dumbledore hastily took out a perfumed handkerchief and pressed it to his nose and mouth, feeling the bile rising up in his throat. The body had already began to decay, the flies buzzed, sleepily hovering over the rotting flesh. He was no expert, of course, but he thought that Slughorn must have been killed after his visit, five days ago. It wasn't a coincidence. The headmaster stumbled out of the room and went down to firecall Scrimgeour - the head of the auror division at the ministry of magic. Shacklebot was the first to come through the floo a minute after he explained the situation to the head auror. Dumbledore couldn't help but wince at the sight of the dark skinned wizard's face - it looked almost grotesque, a mean parody on a human being. The acid that a death eater threw at him at the tournament's finale burned his skin and muscles and even bones, turning his face into an ugly mass of flesh... he was lucky his eyes survived.

Silently, he beckoned Shacklebot to follow and led him into the bedroom. The auror coughed at the horrid smell and took out his handkerchief as well. Holding it over his nose, he bent down to examine the corpse. They heard the sounds of others flooing into the house.

"Since there was no Death Mark left over the house, it is impossible to connect this murder to death eaters, however, the brutality reminds me of those cases at Hogsmead, where two of your students were killed," he looked up at the Dumbledore. At the headmaster's sad nod of understanding, he continued, "The marks on the body suggest that it wasn't a wizard who did this - I see bite marks, large ones, it was a big wild animal by the looks of these."

"A werewolf, perhaps?" Dumbledore suggested. Although Remus stopped working for the Order due to his health problems, he told Dumbledore that more and more werewolves were siding with Greyback, which was worrying. There wouldn't be an easy way out of the coming war if Voldemort managed to sway them to his side.

"Quite possible," Shacklebot replied, looking up at the insides, "We would examine him further at our laboratory. Too bad you found him so late, his body had been decaying for some time already, some of the evidence is gone forever."

"I couldn't know..." the headmaster began but halted. Of course he could, couldn't he? Even Slughorn himself knew very well that Tom would have not left him alive, it was just a matter of time when he would have remembered about his old potions professor. Sighing, Dumbledore rubbed his eyes, standing at the porch, watching the rain that started again. He should have been more persistent, he should have forced Horace to come to Hogwarts the very same day he visited. But who would have taken Slughorn's books? A werewolf could steal the potions and ingredients to sell them later, but the books? Most werewolves weren't wizards, they couldn't understand what precious material was hidden in those ancient tomes.

So it were death eaters after all. They could have easily tame a wolf to do the killing, while they took everything they could use for themselves. Dumbledore sighed again, angrily this time. Tom was once again a few steps ahead of him, now he would never know how many horcruxes there were. He needed to speak to Eridanus - perhaps the boy inherited something else from Tom's soul that could help them in their search... He couldn't kill the boy, not yet, he had to make sure all the other horcruxes were destroyed so that Voldemort could be finished once and for all. The headmaster only hoped that he would find them soon, he couldn't let Eridanus Lestrange grow up and become an independent dark wizard - the child was hardly innocent, there was no telling where would his darkness lead him.


End file.
